


The 148

by AlexGlass (orphan_account)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, except not exactly, its a Worm au, meaning the power system is kinda complex but bear with me it will make sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AlexGlass
Summary: The late 1980s were worrying times, as people suddenly gained abilities formerly reserved to the furthest edges of science fiction. It was only in '88 that the world got enough of a grip to attempt to find an explanation for the source of parahuman abilities. What they found was trigger events: people, when placed under great amounts of physical or mental duress, could gain immense amounts of power.And there is no source of physical and mental duress quite like organized college sports.





	1. Motive

Neil’s mind tells him to bend his back forward by 58 degrees only half a second before he rounds the corner, but half a second is all he needs to duck below the swing of the racquet. Though it isn't until he's being told to send his hands forward and prepare for a tumble that he realized that the angle required to keep him outside of the racquet’s range is steep enough to make him fall forward.

He quickly rolls over and jumps back to his feet, but the 2.6 second delay is enough for his attacker—Andrew Minyard, because of course it is, which is setting off some obscure alarm in Neil’s head that he'd just have to address later—to catch up.

Luckily, Neil's escape plan accounted for this too. When Minyard grabs the back of Neil's shirt, Neil twists his torso 92 degrees left, catches the underside of Minyard’s forearm, and—[wait he's supposed to do _what_? That seemed unnecessarily dramatic, but…okay]—kicks off the lockers to flip over Minyard and twist his arm into an angle where he can't keep a hold of Neil's shirt.

As Neil lands on both feet and prepares to run again, Wymack finally rounds the corner, breathlessly yelling “The hell are you doing, Minyard?” before stopping a foot away from Neil. “Listen, kid.” Wymack says while trying to catch his breath. “I'm here to make you an offer.”

The plan says to move forward, elbow the older man three inches above his left ear, run past him, grab his bag from where it fell, exit the school and then get the fuck out of Millport. But fuck it, Neil is willing to delude himself into thinking that Wymack has some alternate motive and he needs to know what it is. Because why else would Wymack—and again that bell was ringing at the back of Neil’s head—want Neil.

Wymack gives a frustrated sigh when Neil asks as much, then says “Because my last striker can't play anymore and I need a replacement, quickly.” The way Wymack said “can't play” makes Neil pause. Or rather, freeze in terror.

“She had a trigger event, didn't she?” Wymack’s nod in response just further reminds Neil of the risk he placed himself in. “She's a Breaker-5. Couldn't even keep her on as an assistant.”

The late 1980s were worrying times, as people suddenly gained abilities formerly reserved to the furthest edges of science fiction. It was only in '88 that the world got enough of a grip to attempt to find an explanation for the source of parahuman abilities. What they found was trigger events: people, when placed under great amounts of physical or mental duress, could gain immense amounts of power. And there is no source of physical and mental duress quite like organized college sports. Exy almost died as marketable sport in the early '90s as college teams became hotbeds for cape activity. Naturally, a game couldn't be fair if one of your players can cross the field in a single step or teleport the ball across the court.

Enter the Parahuman Ethics in Organized Sport Committee, the so-called peacekeepers tasked with keeping the game fair. The American Supreme Court ruled that to protect player’s privacy, a player couldn't be investigated every time a complaint was filed, but coaches and players alike were contractually bound to register with the government and immediately cease playing should they trigger.

There lies Neil's biggest problem: not only is he a cape, he's a _powerful_ cape. Six months before, in a rare bout of curiosity, Neil had reached out to Amalya, a Thinker contact of his mother's, and asked to be privately classified. The woman had called him a Class-A cape. If his secret came out, not only would he be banned from playing Exy, not only would his father be looking for him, but so would _every government on earth_. Palmetto isn't just a risk, it's an outright death sentence. At best.

But Neil looks at the folio in Wymack's hand and the longing threatens to do his father's job for him and tear Neil apart at the seams. Palmetto is exy, is everything he wanted.

Experience told Neil that anything he wanted is sure to be a trap. “Why should I sign with you? What could Palmetto possibly offer me?”

Neil really should've expected the result of asking that question. He tries to listen to Wymack’s voice, but his brain tunes the man out as it begins answering Neil's question itself.

**Possible Objectives— Palmetto State:**

**1\. Die, 19 steps**

**2\. Take over the world, 1489 steps**

**3\. Become a professional Exy player, 148 steps**

…What?

_What?_

Neil isn't surprised by the first two options, those appear every time Neil contemplates doing _anything_ , though the number of steps required always varies. "Die" is always predictably morbid, and "Take over the world" includes a great deal of violence that Neil wants no part in. But the third one…the third one is new. New and terrifying and he really shouldn't be curious about it and yet…

**Objective: Become a professional Exy player / 148 Steps**

**1\. Turn 76 degrees left**

**2\. Panic**

Neil turns around and feels like Minyard really did hit him with the racquet, because that bell finally had enough of the back of Neil's mind and comes rushing into his consciousness with a _DING DING DING ANDREW MINYARD AND KEVIN DAY ARE BASICALLY STUCK AT THE HIP WHY ELSE WOULD THEY HAVE COME THEY KNOW WHO YOU ARE YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP DING DING DING._

"You can't be here," Neil says, though he has no idea how because he's sure his lungs have shriveled up and turned to ash. It's only by the confused look on Kevin's face that Neil realizes that he was interrupting Wymack mid-sentence, but at this point he's beyond caring. The death sentence that would be the Foxes just turned from possibility to reality. "Why are you here?"

"To sign you to the foxes."

"I won't." Why is he still even here? Why hasn't he already run out the door and not looked back?

**Objective: Become a professional Exy player**

Oh shut up.

"You will." Kevin speaks with the calm of a preacher and the intensity of one of Nathan Wesninski's vict—minions. The confidence could be called inspiring, if only Neil wasn't the object of its scrutiny.

"Why are you so set on me? A million potential strikers, why me?"

Kevin looks Neil dead in the eye with the arrogance of someone not used to being denied—which Neil supposes he hasn't really, beyond Andrew's refusal to join the Ravens. "Because I've seen you play. Hernandez was smart enough to send us your tape rather than your stats, and you play like you have nothing to lose. That's the only kind of person worth playing with."

If Mary was is this room, she would have killed all three of them already and been halfway to the Mexican border. But Mary is dead. She's dead and Neil is alive and he maybe has a plan, stupid as it may be, and as long as that's true then he's going to use his every breath for all they're worth because _fuck it, what's the point otherwise._

Wymack asks Andrew and Kevin to wait in the car before handing Neil the envelope. He's shaking his head, trying to stammer out a refusal, but by the time any sound leaves his mouth he's already clutching the brown paper like the lifeline it isn't, but oh how he wants it to be.

"Are you alright?" Wymack asks, though the look in his eyes says he knows the answer.

"I'm fine," Neil finally manages to croak out. "But I'll have to check with my parents."

The mention of parents darkens the older man's eyes in a way Neil doesn't appreciate. He's about to step back when the look passes and Wymack says "If you want, you can stay the summer in South Carolina." Neil doesn't move an inch but he knows that his eyes have probably doubled in size, which Wymack takes as an invitation to continue. "Andrew's lot stays with Abby, our team nurse, during the summer, so her house is full. But I have a couch that hasn't given me back trouble just yet."

**Objective: Become a professional Exy player / ~~148~~ 141 steps **

If he does this, there's no turning back. No running, no disappearing. This is the promise of a life. Question is, at what cost. He mentally flips through the steps, but as always they're incomprehensible: What does a closed soda can have to do with anything? And bring what racquet where? Neil knows the context won't become clear until it needs to be, but he can't help but speculate.

**3\. Sign the contract**

Neil may be living a lie, but in this moment he makes a decision: he will not die like one.


	2. Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good ol' fashioned worldbuilding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Off-page death, blood, hospitals.

Neil had never been to Upstate Regional Airport before, and as he watches the control tower turn to dust, the people and equipment at the top of the tower falling the whole way down to the tamarack to be crushed by the concrete above them, he doubts that he ever would again.

* * *

 

Neil was in line for passport control when his power screamed at him to duck behind the various carry-ons of the family in front of him, which absorbed the shrapnel from the windows when they exploded with no warning.

**Objective: Escape / 5 steps**

Neil ducked under the line markers and over the injured and ran past passport control. Luckily nobody stopped him as airport security was scrambling to regain order. Neil wondered why there wasn't any intercom announcement—or, for that matter, a single siren—but a glance at the various black television screens strewn around the airport, some of which were now shooting off sparks, told Neil what was happening.  Or rather, _who._

Neil looked around to see that he was standing in a field bodies, abandoned suitcases, and shattered glass; only one of those really concerned him. He was dead if he didn't find shelter before she struck again. Or worse, the rest of the 9 joined her.

The plan was simple, but incredibly risky. He couldn't afford to go into the airport's Class-S bunkers with everyone else, they would turn him into a sitting duck, and exiting would pit him against a heightened security protocol that his forgeries may not be able to stand against. No, he had to leave as quickly and under as little scrutiny as possible.

**2\. Grab two connected stanchions**

**3\. Lodge into railing**

Neil took the stanchions and shoved them upside down into the railing set against what used to be the glass walls but was now empty air. It took a minute or so and a chair, but he finally managed to make sure that they wouldn't move from what he was about to do.

**4\. Jump**

Neil grabbed the rope and jumped over the railing. The tamarack was only one story below, but as planned the rope only followed Neil's halfway down before running out. The sudden stop threatened to dislodge Neil's shoulder, but a now small jump got him to the tamarack unharmed. Well, unharmed in comparison to most of the people at Upstate, anyway.

**5\. Run to the terminal 2 entrance**

It took a minute to reach the terminal drop-off. A minute of legs pumping, duffel bag swinging against his leg, screams in the air changing their tones as the waking fell unconscious or dead and the unconscious woke up in terror. Looking up, Neil could see planes in the distance turning away from the airport. Personal experience told Neil that there were three emergency landing strips reserved for any plane that didn't have enough fuel to make it to any nearby airport or any plane carrying... compromised passengers.

Of course, because this was Neil's life, something began to make a high pitched noise as soon as he allowed himself to relax. At first, it seemed all-consuming, but after a few second its source—or target—became clear: the base of the control tower.

To Neil, it looked as if the bottom 30 feet of the concrete structure had been painted in glass. Then he realized he wasn't that far off, except it wasn't _painted_ in glass, it was _covered_ in it. That was when he finally saw her. Brown skin covered in a dress of iridescent glass shards, culminating in a bird-like helmet with a large red beak curving in front of her face, glowing in the afternoon light.

_Shatterbird. Official classification: Shaker-8, Mover-4, Thinker-5. Power: Glass manipulation, sonic blasts._

They were all so fucking dead.

The pitch of the noise only rose with each second, until cracks started appearing at the tower's base. When the noise finally stopped, the tower was falling onto its side and smashing through the west side of the Arrivals gate.

* * *

 

Neil sits on the remains of the curb, unsure of what to do. He doesn't have a cell phone and the authorities brushed him off as soon as it became apparent that he wasn't critically injured, so he has no way to contact Coach Wymack.

Shatterbird disappeared before the control tower ever hit the ground, but Parahuman Response Teams are still swarming the site, two and a half hours later. Various Protectorate capes sparse the ruins of the airport as well, some standing, some flying, some talking to the local police. He recognizes Newton and Behema from the news, but the rest are strangers to him. By the look of the size of many of the capes, most of those present are Wards, the junior branch of the Protectorate. Likely brought along to help clean up while their seniors patrol and investigate.

Neil can't help but wonder if Shatterbird was there for _him._ The Nine's signature is senseless carnage, but they've been known to hire themselves out before in the pursuit of causing even greater damage. It would be plausible for his father to have hired them to come after Neil.

Neil is walking around, trying to come up with a good story to convince the EMTs to lend him a cell phone, when he notices a familiar short, blond figure being carted away by paramedics.

"Aaron?" Neil shouts as he runs over, but a closer look reveals that the other man is unconscious. Lacerations cover what Neil can see of his hands and face, and his long clothes—odd, considering the heat—are torn in multiple places. Blood darkens his skin and clothes in splotches all over his body. Neil realizes that he must have been waiting for Neil at the Arrivals gate when Shatterbird struck, and instantly feels guilty. Another person hurt because of his selfishness.

The paramedics, and short black woman and a slightly taller Korean man, look at Neil. "Do you know him?" The woman asks.

Neil hesitates but then nods. "His name is Aaron Minyard, he was supposed to pick me up today." The male paramedic then digs a wallet from Aaron's pocket, and then nods to his colleague when the name matches what Neil said. "Are you his emergency contact?" The woman asks.

"No, we were supposed to meet today, though I've met his brother."

"Can you call his brother? We need to inform his emergency contacts." They rush Neil into the waiting ambulance alongside them, and don't blink when Neil claims his phone was damaged in the attack. Shatterbird's blasts can and will fry every silicon-based electronic in range, so they've probably heard this complaint from everyone today.

Neil sits in silence as the paramedics, who introduce themselves as Wanda and Jeonghoon ("Call me Jay if it's easier"), tend to Aaron's injuries. Except when Wanda cuts away at Aaron's right shirtsleeve, she makes a noise of surprise when she finds a small tattoo on his forearm. From Neil's angle, it looks like a barcode, but arranged in a sort of spiral formation. When Wanda shows it to Jeonghoon, he immediately pulls out his phone and seems to take a picture until Neil realizes that he is in fact scanning the barcode.

When Jeonghoon brings the phone down, he looks from the screen to Neil and back again, and then pulls out Aaron's driver's license, his face scrunched up in a mix of worry and confusion. "Hey, ugh..." The paramedic says to Neil. "Are you sure that this is Aaron? Because there seems to be a computer error or something..."

The paramedics are visibly relieved to be informed that the Minyard brothers are identical twins, and that there wasn't a giant clerical error for them to handle. Neil, however, was curious as to why Andrew had come to the airport instead of his brother, and why the US government apparently had Andrew barcoded.

Once they were sure Andrew was stable, Jeonghoon took the opportunity to turn on the radio. Skipping a few music stations and a couple of dead channels, he finally settled on the local news where a woman is recapping the events at the airport, but after a couple of moments Wanda finally decides she's had enough to switch to a music station until they reach the hospital.

The paramedics leave Neil at the hospital's reception with instructions to call Aaron and the twins' cousin, Nicholas Hemmick. He fills in as much of Andrew's paperwork as he can, feeling sick to his stomach every time he has to write his own name, and the receptionist hands him the landline and a printout of Andrew's emergency contact sheet. Neil doesn't feel like explaining the Aaron/Andrew conundrum all over again, so he calls Nicholas first. The phone doesn't even finish ringing the first time before someone answers. "Hello? Who is this?" The voice tries to sound calm, but is clearly holding back a lot of emotion. Makes sense, if he saw the news.

"Is this Nicholas Hemmick?"

"Yes, who is this?" Nicholas' voice is nearing frantic at this point.

"It's, uh, it's Neil. Neil Josten?" He really isn't sure how to have this conversation. "I'm at the Boone Medical Center in Columbia. Your cousin was injured in the attack."

"Oh my god." Somehow, Nicholas's voice becomes even shriller. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, some cuts. His clothes were shredded. He's unconscious but the paramedics said he was stable when they brought him in." 

"Oh my god." Nicholas said again, but a bit less anxious this time. "Okay, Boone? I know where that is. Stay there, we'll be there as soon as we can, but it might take us a couple of hours."

Neil ends the conversation and then dials Wymack's number. He relays the same information to the coach as he did to Nicholas, and hangs up after Wymack says he's coming to the hospital too.

Every single one of Neil's instincts are telling him to run far, far away. Hospitals are bear traps and Class-S disasters like a Slaughterhouse 9 attack are where forged papers go to die. But Andrew was likely hospitalized because of Neil. So Neil sits down on a bench next to the reception, hooks both his hands through the duffel's straps, and lets his head fall against the wall.

 **Objective: Become a professional Exy player /** ~~**141** ~~**146 steps**

Capes like Legend or Alexandria are storms in their own right; powerful and awe-inspiring and seemingly unstoppable.

But if two of the most famous heroes on earth are storms, Class-S entities are hurricanes. That in itself is a false equivalence; there are capes nowadays with the power to stop hurricanes, but no such measure exists against the likes of the Nine, much less the Endbringers.

The fact that Neil is supposedly only a step below them is almost unimaginable. But then looks can be deceiving. Even, he supposed, to the deceiver.

* * *

 

Neil doesn't realize he fell asleep until a hand nudges him awake. A plan forms in his mind immediately, but he becomes fully aware of his surrounding and gives up on the second step before he breaks Nicholas Hemmick's jaw. Aaron Minyard—the real Aaron—stood next to him, with Kevin loitering near the coffee machine. The room is only slightly less busy than it was—Neil glances at the clock—two and a half hours ago.

"Oh, hello." Neil says as he lets go of the other man's wrist, which he immediately starts rubbing. Neil has a feeling that the brown skin will turn to blue in a bit. "Didn't see you there. You're Nicholas, right?"

"Yeah, but please call me Nicky." He tries to smile, but the lingering pain from Neil's death grip and his worry over his cousin put an unsettling damper on his attempt at a warm welcome. "And this is Aaron." He gestures to his cousin.

Neil gives a short wave as a way of greeting, but can't help but ask the question that’s been bugging him for the past two and a half hours. "Listen, it's nice to meet you, but I think I'm owed an explanation as to why Andrew took your place. And keep in mind whichever doctor is examining Andrew is probably going to ask you the same question."

Aaron's expression shifts from faux-neutrality to the sour expression of someone caught in a lie. "It's complicated."

"Not really." All three of them jump when Kevin walks up seemingly out of nowhere. "He wanted to see what kind of person you are."

"And he couldn't do that without lying about it because…"

Kevin shrugged. "He thinks you don’t trust him."

"Case in point," Neil said, gesturing in the direction of the hallway leading further into the hospital, where armed guards checked the ID's of everyone who went in.

"He also doesn't trust you."

That was fair enough, but the possibility that Andrew suspected something, maybe enough to look into Neil's nonexistent records, chills him to the bone. The thought only serves to remind Neil that he is currently engaging in the very antithesis of everything his mother had taught him in all their years on the run.

"Personally I don't see what trust has to do with it," Kevin continues, apparently oblivious to Neil's quiet meltdown. "You're willing to play, and that’s all that matters."

Neil guesses that his expression currently sits somewhere between Nicky's look of incredulity and Aaron's condescending glare. But unlike the cousins, only Neil understands the hypocrisy of Kevin's statement. Trust is everything. Trust is the difference between ally and enemy. And the loss of trust is what made Nathan Wesninski turn an underling's own hands against him, made him hack away at his own body until he couldn’t, as three little boys watched on.

Kevin, in what Neil begins to think is just a part of the man's general arrogance, doesn't seem to notice or care. He's already going back to the coffee machine and punching in another black coffee. Nicky notices Neil's staring and chuckles awkwardly. "Yeah, uh, Kevin is sort of a recovered alcoholic. Caffeine helps him cope."

Neil never understood the allure of alcohol, though he's witnessed many fall to it. He supposes he can admire the will required to step away from addiction. Though the sight of Kevin grimacing at the hospital coffee but downing it like it's water anyway makes him wonder if the Exy star had simply traded one addiction for another.

Aaron dismisses the line of conversation with a wave of his hand (Neil can't help but wonder if the arrogance is just a general Fox thing). "How did they know it's Andrew, anyway? He took my driver's license."

Neil opens his mouth to explain the strange tattoo, but then thinks better of it. If they're asking, then they probably don't know, and Neil is willing to bet that Andrew keeps them in the dark for a reason. He's scrambling for a lie when Nicky slaps Aaron's hand with the back of his arm. "They probably just found the meds in his system." Neil makes a noncommittal-but-vaguely-agreeing hum, which seems enough for Aaron.

Kevin comes back, having thrown his empty cup in the trash, and the four of them spend the next fifteen minutes sitting in silence. At least, Neil Aaron and Kevin do. Nicky chatters on like Andrew will die if he keeps quiet for more than ten seconds at the time. Most of it seems to be directed at Neil, though he never replies. Nicky is contemplating the pros and cons of faring traffic to the house the cousins apparently own in Columbia and getting Andrew a change of clothes when a doctor comes through the doors leading to the rest of the hospital and heads right to Neil.

"Neil Josten?" The doctor asks, seeming relieved that he got the right person and even more so when Nicky introduces himself.

"So how is he?" Kevin's former air of arrogance is gone, replaced with an even more concerned expression than Nicky's, if that's possible.

"He's fine. Unconscious, but he should wake up in a day or so. We didn't account for his drug tolerance, so his morphine dosage is a good bit higher than usual. He's an athlete, correct?" He nods along when they voice affirmation. "Well once he wakes up he'll have to say in bed and medicated for another week or so, but after that he should be back to normal. I can't stress just how lucky he is."

Hospital policy states that only Aaron and Nicky can see Andrew before he wakes up, so Nicky fills out all the paperwork that Neil couldn't and then they all head to the hospital parking lot. Nicky heads to a small gray Suzuki, which he explains belonged to Abby, the Foxes' nurse. "Andrew took the car to the airport, so it's likely in pieces now. I'll have to call the insurance company later. Anyway, Wymack and Abby are going to meet us at the house."

The last time Neil had seen traffic this chaotic was when he and Mary were fleeing Switzerland. He forces himself to memorize the route they're taking before he falls too far down the rabbit hole, but the screams from those two nightmarish days still echo in his ears.

After what feels like several hours, even though the sun still hasn't set, they reach the cousin's house. A car is already parked in front of the two-story Dutch Colonial-style house, and as they pull up to the curb Wymack and an average-height woman who must be Abby Winfield climb out. Nobody bothers speaking until they're all situated in the living room except for Kevin, who goes to the kitchen to make coffee for everyone, and Aaron who heads upstairs.

"Well," Wymack begins. "Becoming a Fox is always a bit of a rough landing, but I have to say this is a new one." Abby immediately slaps him on the arm, but Neil appreciates the humor.

"It's fine, Coach. I've had worse injuries, considering everything." Neil is careful to make the statement sound innocent, but the look Wymack gives him suggests that the older man isn’t buying it. Neil figures that his best option is deflection. "Andrew, on the hand…"

Abby jumps at the opening, grilling Nicky for everything Andrew's doctor said as Kevin comes back with coffee for everyone except Neil, who turns Kevin down when he asks Neil what kind he wants. Eventually the conversation turns to what they're going to do while Andrew is hospitalized. Kevin is just about ready to kill anyone who would keep him from the court, and Neil is inclined to agree, but Kevin is also strangely apprehensive of the thought of leaving Andrew in Columbia alone.

Nicky offers to stay in Columbia and look after Andrew, but Kevin refuses to have any of that either. "Nicky, if it weren't for Seth's temper tantrums, your playing would make you the weakest link in a team of weak links. You're coming back to the Court with us." Wymack glares at Kevin for the comment about Seth Gordon, the Foxes' starting striker, but Kevin meets his gaze head on, daring him to deny it.

**Objective: Kill Kevin / 6 steps**

The thought is tempting, but Neil files it away for another day. Who knows, maybe the plan will even call for it. Life can be surprising like that.

Eventually, after much debating (aka trying to meet Kevin's ridiculous expectations, which Neil has by now accepted is just going to be a thing he'll have to deal with), a plan of action is agreed on. Wymack and Abby will go back to Palmetto, while the cousins and Kevin and Neil will stay in Columbia until Andrew can be checked out of the hospital. They will then come back to Palmetto so Andrew can heal at Abby's house while the rest of them practice. Neil isn't necessarily happy with every facet of this plan. He wants to be on the court, to see the stadium and the white and orange and the locker that's going to be _his._ But he's also tired, of arguing and in general, so for now he accepts his fate.

When Wymack and Abby finally leave for Palmetto, it's already past midnight. The possibility of Neil using Andrew's bedroom for the month is considered for all of half a second before Nicky brings out a spare pillow and comforter to the couch. It's hardly the height of hospitality, but Neil had spent the last year sleeping on locker room benches and concrete floors, using his duffel as a pillow, so he is hardly one to complain. He puts the pillow on top of his duffel, loops his hands through the straps, and allows himself to fall asleep.

* * *

 

 

 

> _"--reports are still coming in as survivors are rushed to hospitals, but casualties are currently estimated at upwards of 1100 people and the injured numbering in the thousands. Security cameras first caught Shatterbird flying in from the south less than 15 seconds before the blast, too quickly for any alarm to be raised. Possibly more troubling is the fact that she appeared to be alone. As a long-time member of the Slaughterhouse 9, Shatterbird rarely works solo. So where was the rest of the group, and what are they all doing now?_
> 
> _"The 9 have lain low since the massacre at the Metro Toronto Convention Center 8 weeks ago, which killed almost 300 people before the Guild, led by Dragon, came onto the scene. In conjunction with Protectorate teams and specialized PRT units, the capes managed to stop the 9 in their tracks, reportedly injuring Burnscar, with minimal additional damage to the surrounding blocks--"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worldbuilding. Yes. That's definitely what this was. No other purpose.
> 
> Anywhoozles, this chapter was 2.5 times longer than the first and I hope I can keep that train going.
> 
> Up next: Palmetto, Exy, parahumans, and assholish behavior. What's new.
> 
> It's gonna be fun ya'll.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at aledethanlast.tumblr.com


	3. Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Court!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of past alcoholism, psychological abuse

Neil wakes up at almost noon the next day to the aroma of coffee emanating from the kitchen. To little surprise, a foray into the kitchen leads him to finding Kevin standing next to a hi-tech coffee machine, standing in stark contrast to the rest of the cost-friendly house. Next to Kevin are three mugs full of steaming liquid of different colors, with a fourth in his hand. He hands Neil a purple mug of black coffee, and this time Neil doesn't object beyond adding two creams from the bowl next to the coffee machine. Kevin watches him do it, obviously judging but—for once—not caring enough to comment. Neil settles down at the kitchen table, neither of them saying a word.

Nicky comes down a few minutes later and Aaron in short order behind him, but nobody speaks until all four mugs are empty and in the dishwasher, at which point the actors seem to finally remember their roles and make up for lost time.

"So, Neil," Nicky says in a tone most reserve for dogs and birthday parties. "We realize that yesterday was hardly the greatest of introductions, so how about we start over?" He places a hand on his chest, and then gestures to Aaron and Kevin. "I'm Nicky, that's Aaron, and you've already met the drama queen."

Neil interjects before Kevin begins whatever protest he has. "I've already met all of you."

"Yes, well. Anyway, tell us about yourself! Whatever it is that Kevin and Coach know about you, they sure haven't cared to share."

Neil really isn't sure what they want to know and whether he can tell them, so he starts with the basics. "I'm from Millport, I play as a striker, I'm 19—"

Nicky rests his hand on Neil's and doesn't comment when Neil pulls his hand away. "Not what I meant. We know you've only been in Millport for the past year. Where are you from? What do you like to do outside of Exy? What are you going to study at Palmetto? What is it exactly that makes you  _ Fox _ material?" The questions range from curious to prying to downright rude, and worst of all Neil doesn't have an answer for any of them. None he can give Nicky, at least.

**Objective: Become a professional Exy player / 146 steps**

**5\. Lie your ass off**

"My parents moved me around a lot. They both have jobs that require a lot of traveling, so they tend to just stick me wherever is close to them both. 'Close' being a one-state radius."

Nicky looks ready to polish his resume for FBI interrogator, but luckily Aaron and Kevin both come to Neil's aid with a giant dose of Not Caring. Kevin starts talking about going to the community center in Columbia to practice while Aaron just leaves the room to god knows where.

A question from Neil has Nicky showing him the way upstairs to the bathroom and pulling a spare towel out of a drawer. "Go ahead and wash up. Actually, do you have a change of clothes?" He seems relieved when Neil raises his duffel by way of answer. "Good. I was afraid we'd have to raid Andrew's closet. Anyway, you wash up and I'll go see if we can recover your luggage so you aren't just stuck with whatever is in that bag." 

He laughs at his own joke, like anyone else who's never had to whittle their life away to the barest necessities, but it still stings. The reminder that Neil is not like them, not yet and maybe not ever. Kevin is the only one who may even comprehend Neil's life and he doesn't seem to remember him.

So maybe Neil is a bit defensive when he holds the straps of his duffel tighter and says, "This is everything. I didn't bring luggage." Nicky's response is a series of expressions Neil doesn't really care to unpack as he slams the bathroom door shut maybe a tiny bit too forcefully than necessary.

The water is steaming but feels like cool ice against Neil's skin as he works to scrub away at the dirt and shrapnel and smoke and hospital antiseptic of yesterday. It's a solid fifteen minutes before the water is clear going down the drain. Neil rests his head against the cool tile of the wall and allows himself to  _ think _ for possibly the first time in weeks.

Neil hasn't even set foot in Palmetto yet and people are already getting hurt. He knows, logically, that there's no way for him to prove that Shatterbird was at the airport for him, but it's hard to argue that the present isn't your fault when you have the power to change the future. Neil exists on a lonely road with the potential for death forthcoming and its certainty in his wake. If Neil has any consideration for the good of society he would run away now, or even better, die, lest the world end due to his own selfish machinations.

**Objective: Become a professional Exy player / 146 steps**

But then, it's not like the sports industry could survive the apocalypse, so how bad can Neil be if there will still be Exy at the end of it, right?

Neil leaves the shower, dries off, gets dressed, checks his roots and brushes his teeth before exiting the bathroom and going downstairs to the living room. Kevin is watching some Exy game on the TV, Neil doesn't recognize the names at the bottom of the screen, while Nicky is on the phone out on the porch. Aaron is still nowhere to be found. Neil hesitates for a moment before joining Kevin on the couch. The other man barely spares him a glance before returning his gaze to the game.

"We're not missing any practice just because we're in Columbia," Kevin says, eyes still glued to the screen. "You're fast, okay for a high schooler, but like hell am I letting you onto the court in August in the state you are now."

He frowns when Neil points out that he doesn't have any gear, or even a fitting racquet. Nor, for that matter, does Kevin. The thought appears to have not even crossed Kevin's mind. Who knows, maybe in Edgar Allen they train in the nude as encouragement to evade the ball. Wouldn't be the weirdest rumor about the school out there.

Nonetheless, Kevin's deriding comments sting. They haven't even begun practicing and he's already criticizing Neil's shortcomings. "If I'm such a disappointment, why be so insistent on signing me onto the Foxes?"

"Because you have talent." Kevin replies without missing a beat, once again determined to be as confusing as possible with the least amount of words. When Neil opens his mouth to say as much, he finally deigns to elaborate. "You have  _ talent, _ but you don't have  _ skill. _ You're like Andrew, all the raw potential but none of the finesse. You could go pro, probably even Court, if you just got the right training."

Neil's breath catches in his throat. It's not what Kevin is saying, it's that  _ Kevin _ is saying it. The strings of fate may weave themselves as Neil will tell them, but the fact that there is another person on this earth who believes, for no reason beyond belief itself, that Neil has a chance at a future threatens to undo him.

The game ends and Kevin switches to a national news channel, which is still covering yesterday's attack. The incident isn't unusual enough on the whole to last beyond the 24 hour news cycle, but for the time being the talking heads have chosen to present a certain angle: why was Shatterbird alone? Some of them say that the attack was some sort of cover for a bigger scheme, but none can agree on what the bigger scheme is, each transparently trying to twist the event into some political agenda while others call them out on it. The more inflammatory pundits theorize that she's broken off from the rest of the Slaughterhouse 9 and gone solo, putting the world at risk of a Nine recruitment spree. Neil shudders at the possibility. In the end, it's a whole lot of talking for a whole lot of nothing which Nicky immediately turns off when he steps back into the living room, phone call ended.

"That was the hospital, Andrew's awake."

* * *

 

The ride back to Palmetto is suffocating, as each of them clearly expects  _ something _ to happen but tries to cover it up in false nonchalance. Nicky is singing along to some pop song on the radio even though he clearly doesn't know the words, Kevin is drinking from a travel mug that must be long since empty, Aaron is texting on his phone but keeps throwing sideways glances at them all, Neil is just sitting in the middle of the backseat with his hands in his lap, and they all seem to be waiting for Andrew to give any sort of clue as to his state of mind from the passenger seat even though he's  _ fucking asleep. _

Dr. Faraway (which is somehow not a made up name) told them that Andrew's condition presented a unique challenge; they had to prescribe him medication strong enough to do the job but still work around his mood-altering drugs. The result worked, but would leave him mostly unconscious for the better part of the next week.

Eventually Nicky gives up on singing and moves on to complaining about Abby's car's various shortcomings. Apparently the cousins’ car, which is now a bunch of scrap metal buried underneath about 20 metric tons of concrete, was a GS. This meant absolutely nothing to Neil, but Nicky's tone of voice implies that it was expensive.

Neil never understood the desire for a flashy ride. When he was 12 his mother managed to strike a deal with Mechania, a Tinker in Belarus who specialized in road transportation. His garage was huge, with cars of every model lined up in two neat rows like trophies. Each car a different color, different design, different logo on the front. Some could shoot missiles, others could go invisible, and a couple could drive upside down if the situation allowed for them. No two models were alike.

But they sure all burned the same, when Mary discovered that Mechania snitched on their location. Nathan's men had already surrounded the building by the time the first flames caught, but Mary was smart enough to leave the plasma-ray tank unharmed. The experience had been terrifying at the time, but in retrospect Neil has to admit that he regrets having to leave the tank behind before they crossed EU borders.

Abby lives in a one-story house five minutes from campus, and she steps out to meet them as they all pile out of the car. Except Andrew, that is, who is still asleep. Judging by the nervous glances Nicky and Kevin are sending each other, past incidents have left an uncharacteristic cautious streak in them both. When nobody says a word, Neil sighs in resignation.

**Objective: Wake up Andrew / 2 steps**

Neil climbs back into the backseat of the car and kicks the back of the passenger seat exactly once. The result feels to Neil like an unusually large grenade has gone off as Andrew jumps awake and punches the glove compartment with enough force that Neil is surprised the plastic doesn’t shatter.

It takes Andrew a second to reorient himself, and then turns around to face Neil. "Not amusing," Andrew says with a very amused expression. The smile on his face is sharp enough to cut through flesh, but that's hardly a threat to Neil anymore. He's done too much and gone too far to be afraid of another blade.

"I need you awake, not amused. Let's go." Neil exits the car and Andrew follows suit, joining the rest of the group, who are all looking at them in various shades of confusion. Nicky looks like he's about to say something but a look from Andrew keeps him quiet.

Neil waits in the living room as the Kevin and the cousins get settled. Neil himself will be staying with Wymack until the dorms open in June, so for now he waits on the couch, trying and failing to politely rebuff Abby's fussing. After a few minutes Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky come back to the living room. Andrew is probably already asleep again in his room, knocked out from a literal handful of meds. After a short goodbye to Abby the four of them pile into the car again.

Neil's chest coils tighter with every second they get closer, and he barely pays attention when Nicky points out Wymack's apartment building on the way. By the time the Foxhole Court's roof comes into view he's fidgeting so much he could probably outrun the car. The parking lot is empty when they park and Neil practically jumps out of the car.

Neil makes it to the door before any of them, so Kevin throws him the keys and says "Red key, and the passcode is 0508." Except Neil isn't listening, he's staring at the keys in his hand. They're small, light, replaceable, and yet they mean everything. They're explicit proof of Neil's existence, his ability to make an impression on the world.

**Objective: Take over the world / 1216 steps**

Especially since he  _ isn't _ going to do that, thanks.

Neil's hesitation gives the rest of the group enough time to catch up to him, so he twists the key in the lock and punches in the code. Nicky is back to chattering, but Neil for the most part tunes out his ramble about refurnishing and what not to  focus on Kevin's quick tour of the home team part of the building, until the talking stops and Neil realizes that Nicky asked him a question. "What?"

"I was asking if you've got a girl. Or a boy, if you swing that way, in which case tell me now and spare me the hassle."

Neil's life is but a list of rules to follow in the name of survival, and some rules are more important than others.  _ No romance _ is underlined. Twice. "I don't swing."

Nicky seems to think that he's joking for a second before registering that Neil's expression hasn't changed. "Oh come on, everybody likes  _ someone _ . Let's put it this way, who's your celebrity crush?" Aaron slaps Nicky and then mutters " _ Stop being an idiot" _ , though he does it in German of all things. Interesting. They probably think he can't understand them.

Kevin is the first person to pop into Neil's head at Nicky's celebrity crush comment, but since he would frankly rather kill them all than admit it, he decides to play dumb, much to Nicky's annoyance.  And then finally,  _ finally _ , they enter the inner stadium.

Before Neil stands a monument to everything he is and could be, surrounded by everything standing in his way.

When the world realized that any professional sports game could be tampered with by capes, teams started hiring Thinkers to watch over games and detect any cape interference. About ten years ago, a Tinker named Technos rattled the world by inventing the first ever piece of mass-producible Tinker-tech. Referred to by most as simply Tinkerglass, the tech was a clear dome that encased the court. If any cape power from outside the dome tried to affect anything inside of it, the Tinkerglass would block the attempt and light up at the base, alerting the Thinker guards.

The first time Neil ever played a real game back in Millport, he was afraid that as soon as he stepped on the court the Tinkerglass would light up and he'd be hauled away. But it never happened, because that night Neil realized that there would never be anything for the Tinkerglass to detect.

Neil's powers are a cheat code, a script to follow. But Neil doesn't play Exy with a script, he squares his shoulders, fills his lungs, and then improvises his heart out. All the world may be a stage, but the court will always know his truth.

"Enough staring," Kevin says from next to him. "Gear up, we have two days of practice to catch up on and god knows you'll need every second."

Neil wants to give a smart reply, but decides to hold his tongue for now. There's better things to do than argue.

**6\. Play**

* * *

 

Wymack comes to the stadium about an hour and a half into their practice and about 89 minutes into Neil's redesign of his plan to include Kevin's "unfortunate fatal car crash" with sandwiches and water for them before going into his office.

Neil remembers something his art teacher said in Millport: artist's block is when your eyes know what to do but your body doesn't know how to catch up. Today's practice feels like that; Neil is playing with people far above his level and can't keep up. But beyond that, there's Kevin, who even playing with his non-dominant hand is far above them all. Neil suspects that there's something there that he's missing, that Kevin's ability is far more than just talent, but for now he lets it go and eats.

Wymack comes back out from his office with a carefully neutral face. Neil heard the phone ring a few minutes ago, and then indiscernible yelling, so he assumes that Wymack just received some news he didn't want. Instinct makes Neil inch down the couch away from the man.

"Hi, Neil," Wymack says, and then shoots a pointed look at Aaron, Kevin, and Nicky. "And the pests." His expression can't be more scathing or more blatantly for comedic effect, and they all relax slightly as Wymack turns back to him. "How are you? Any lasting damage?" He nods in approval when Neil shakes his head. "Good. Well, I'm done here for the day so I'm heading home. You want to come with me and we'll set up the couch now or do you want to just come later?"

Neil thinks about it, and then tells him to let him shower and then they'll go. Wymack nods, and Neil heads off to the locker room. The showers, much to Neil's surprise, have stalls and doors that lock. He comes back out to the foyer to see Aaron and Nicky already gone. The sound of a fight leads Neil down the hall to Wymack's office, the door closed but light showing underneath.

The "fight" isn't really much of one, Neil discovers when he opens the door, but rather Wymack wrestling a bottle of scotch away from Kevin, who is sobbing uncontrollably. "I can't, you need to give it to me or he'll come and he'll—"

"He's not going to touch you, I promise." Wymack finally manages to pry the scotch away from Kevin and shoves the young man down into the chair in front of the desk. "You won't need this."

"You can't know that."

"Kevin, do you trust me?" When Kevin is too slow to respond, "Kevin, do you trust Andrew? The deal you two made?" At that, Kevin gives a small nod, though it may also just be the tremors going through his entire body. "We'll keep you safe, Kevin, I promise." A hiccup breaks Kevin's quick, shallow breaths and he nods again, this time more forcefully, though his eyes keep eyeing the scotch.

Neil doesn't know what's going on, what deal Wymack is talking about or why Kevin is crying and trying to get drunk when he's not supposed to be drinking anymore. But then Wymack meets his eyes and Neil realizes that he's probably not supposed to know about this conversation, either.

Wymack walks around the desk towards where Neil is standing, still technically in the hallway, and closes the door behind him. "How much did you hear?"

"Who is Kevin afraid of?"

Wymack closes his eyes and breathes in deep, like what he's about to say will pain him.

**7\. Listen closely**

"Look, this is going to be a lot to hear, but you'll have to learn this sooner or later if you're going to be a Fox. What do you know of the Moriyama family?"

Neil has no idea where Wymack is going with this, but he knows that he doesn't like the older man's tone of voice. "Beyond Riko and Tetsuji?" Wymack nods. "Not much. Kengo is a businessman of some sort, and Ichirou is set to inherit. Why?"

"Because Kengo Moriyama isn't just a businessman, he's the head of the yakuza and controls the entire east coast."

Neil stares at Wymack until he's sure that the man isn't kidding. "How is that possible? Didn't the yakuza drown with the rest of Japan?"

"No, Kengo was already establishing a bigger presence in the states, and he was in New York when Leviathan made his debut. So he moved his base of power from what was left of Tokyo to New York and started expanding his power. They basically control this side of the country."

None of this makes any sort of sense to Neil. The kind of takeover Wymack is describing is virtually impossible. His father only manages it because of his powers. But that thought only leads Neil to a conclusion that he doesn't want to face. "How? With all the different cape groups vying for control, how do the Moriyamas stay on top?"

"They stay on top because Kengo himself is a cape, along with Tetsuji and Kengo's right hand man, Nathan Wesninski. He was outed as the Butcher about a year ago, almost went to the Birdcage, you've probably seen it on the news."

Oh, Neil had seen it alright, and the  _ not guilty _ verdict had threatened to undo him so little time after his mother's death. The Baumann Parahuman Containment Center, informally known as the Birdcage, is a prison buried inside the Rocky Mountains and the only facility on earth designed to hold parahumans. Most importantly, the Birdcage has one entrance, and no exit. The Butcher definitely deserved to go there, but at the last minute the Protectorate waived the charges, a decision that never made sense until now.

Wymack's words tie together too many threads he didn't even know were loose until now, and he doesn't like this picture. Rather than run the risk of his father finding him, he had in fact delivered himself right to Nathan's doorstep. Oh, and apparently his reach goes even further than Neil ever imagined.

**Objective: Become a professional Exy player / 146 steps**

But his plans aren't infallible. They can change, grow shorter or longer, and even outright fail. His ability is powerful, but it can't predict everything. It'd be best if he runs and never looks back, leaves this stupid dream behind and fi—

**8\. Calm the fuck down before you blow this for yourself**

Okay,  _ rude. _ But Neil's internal thunderstorm is interrupted when he notices Wymack's searching gaze. Neil shakes his head and focuses. There's more to be learned here.

"Okay, so what, Tetsuji and Riko are capes who control half the country?"

Wymack shakes his head. "No and no. The yakuza is only run by firstborn sons. Younger siblings have no place in the hierarchy. Tetsuji has managed to work his way into power with the creation of Exy and the foundation of Castle Evermore as a Moriyama stronghold, and Riko is set to be his heir. At least, as long as the main branch of the family doesn't say otherwise. His family name gives him power in the eyes of the rest of the world, but he's powerless against his own blood."

Neil nods along, plans and objectives and contingencies flying through his mind. Every scrap of information is something he can use. "So what are their powers?" 

"Tetsuji's ability lets him mix together people's senses. He can outright replace them, or he can meld them together into a sort of collective. It's why the Ravens are so symbiotic on the court, he literally makes them forget that they aren't all the same person."

"How doesn't the Tinkerglass catch them?"

"They don't use it during games or in any sort of public event, just practices. The rest is just good old fashioned abuse, twisting their minds until they believe that what Riko wants is what they want."

A thought occurs to Neil then. "Wait, is Kevin a cape too, then? Lamarck's rule of parahuman genetics and all that."

Wymack shakes his head again. "No, Riko and Kevin are both foxes." It takes Neil a second to understand that Wymack isn't talking about his team. Or at least, not exactly.

To put it simply, the Palmetto State Foxes are the bane of every cape behaviorist on the planet. As often as people will talk about any given team's win streaks or individual player strength, they will discuss the team's triggers to season ratio. A high ratio implies that the coach is placing a team under too much pressure, and many a coach have been replaced due to an unfavorable ratio. Edgar Allen's winning streak is a constant source of controversy due to having the 7 th highest average trigger to season in the Class I division.

But David Wymack's group of traumatized delinquents offers a nice flat ration of 0 average trigger events a season, with the next lowest number in Class I being the Trojans with 4.2. Janie Smalls, the girl Neil replaced, was the Fox's first event in almost a decade. "Fox" became a quick descriptor for anybody who didn't follow the usual rules of trigger event behavior, specifically the children of capes, who in theory require a much lower trauma threshold to trigger.

"And the alcohol?" Neil gestures to Wymack's left hand, which is still clutching the bottle. "Kevin was pretty desperate to get blackout drunk."

"Tetsuji's powers can be combated with alcohol. You know how Kevin broke his hand on a skiing trip?" Neil nods. "That was a cover up. They broke his wrist to hide the fact that the hospital they sent him to is a rehab center after they had to pump his stomach. He escaped and came down here, and the Moriyamas agreed to annul his contract because they know he can't keep functioning under Tetsuji. Luckily rehab had enough time to do its job."

Neil head swims with all the new information, but a single thought floats to the top like a bad egg. "And he's now relapsing because the Ravens are coming south this season, aren't they?" Wymack's brows shoot up in surprise, so Neil explains his train of thought. "Obviously he ran to the foxes on the hope that he'll never cross the Ravens' path ever again, which is in itself a flawed plan, but whatever. So if he thinks he needs to protect himself from Tetsuji, it means that he thinks Tetsuji is coming for him."

Wymack gives him a  _ fair enough _ shrug. "That's basically it. The ERC will make the announcement in mid-June. They're hoping to make a spectacle of it. We'll tell the rest of the team when they're all here where we can protect them, so until then try to keep in quiet, okay?" He smiles at Neil's assent.  "Great. Now come on, hopefully Kevin's calmed down some by now, so let's take him to Abby's and then we'll go to my place."

Neil grips his duffel tighter. "Actually, do you mind if I just run to your place?"

"You're a runner? Sure then." He tosses Neil a keychain, not for a second questioning Neil's need to sort out his mind. "This is yours to keep. You already know which keys already open what in the stadium. The long red key is for my building, green key for the apartment. Seventh floor, apartment 724. You know the way?"

Neil clutches the keys until he's pretty sure he's bleeding on them, gives Wymack a curt nod, and then books it out of the stadium as a needle pokes bright holes in the darkening sky and the sun ceases to stab any hint of moisture in the gut. His feet pound on the pavement, duffel swinging by his side, but he isn't registering any of it. Plans are flying and dying and converging inside his head. Nonsensical steps reveal their true purpose while others are struck out from sudden irrelevance and more still are added as the plan grows one contingency, two, three, two again, and on and on it goes.

Neil suspects this is why he may never take up some of the more ambitious plans his powers have provided: they're too much to cover too quickly, and one misstep, one unforeseen obstacle, would threaten to undo it all. He sees the hypocrisy in pretending to play it safe while delivering himself to those who wish him dead on a silver platter. But by the time he reaches Wymack's building, this is what he has:

**Objective: Play Exy, get revenge, live to piss on the Butcher's grave / 148 steps**

* * *

 

> _ "...Diane, listen, I'm not saying that they should be coddled like children, but look at these numbers!  The national average of registered capes who experienced trigger events as a direct result of institutions of higher learning has risen by six points in the last decade. Six. The 1998 recession wasn't that big." _
> 
> _ "I think you're blowing this out of proportion, Hank. We can't ignore the rise in second-generation capes, who require a much lower threshold. Also, I personally find the use of the trigger ratio extremely suspect. We're judging age-old institutions by a metric 99.98% of the world doesn't adhere to. And then there's the fact that college sports are clearly spiking up the numbers—" _
> 
> _ "That arguably makes it worse! To ignore the legislative jungle required to keep the identities of new capes a secret, we can't ignore that what we have on our hands is essentially a pipeline. A court-to-cape pipeline. And the government encourages this just to bolster the Protectorate's ranks." _
> 
> _ "Oh now you're just starting to push conspiracy theories, Hank." _
> 
> _ "Conspiracy theories? Listen, I'm not saying that the country's administrative heads are all in a secret cabal being paid by the government to create more capes, I'm saying that our very culture is inadvertently militarizing our youth. Many of these capes are kids, Diane. The Census Bureau cited in last year's report that the average age of capes who directly join the Protectorate, without graduation into the organization from the Wards, is 27. And we're expecting them to fight the likes of the Endbringers? The Nine? The guy they're calling Sleeper who's roaming Russia, we expect them to take that on?" _
> 
> _ "That's their job, Hank. Using their powers for the good of the public, to watch over the public." _
> 
> _ "Yes but who's watching over them?" _
> 
> _ "The PRT." _
> 
> _ "You know that isn't what I mean, Diane." _
> 
> _ "Well, that's all the time we have for today, thank you for coming, Hank." _
> 
> _ "Thank you for inviting me." _
> 
> _ "Up next, we have special guest Dr. Carlos Palmer talking about the search for Yuma. What happened, where it could have gone, and will it happen again? Stay tuned, right after the break." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! Longest chapter yet, which was fun and I'm happy with, especially considering that a lot of this chapter was like pulling teeth.
> 
> This chapter obviously took longer than the first two, and while I wish I could guarantee that this is a one-time thing, I really can't. Expect an average of a chapter every 1.5 weeks.
> 
> To clarify some things: The Protectorate is the name of the American, government-funded alliance of heroes. The Wards is their Protectorate's junior branch. Kids who trigger and then join are placed on a Wards team, and then graduate to the protectorate when they turn 18. The Parahuman Response Team aka PRT is the non-parahuman organization that oversees and directly commands both groups and call the shots.
> 
> When Neil refers to Lamarck's rule, he's sorta referring to this: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LamarckWasRight  
> Obviously he isn't aware of the specific trope, but rather a modified version created by academic circles in their world. Basically, second generation capes are more likely to trigger young due to a lower bar for what counts as trauma, and their powers tend to resemble that of their parents. Direct blood relation isn't necessary for someone to count as an offspring, so an adopted child is just as likely to be a second-gen as a biological child.
> 
> Up next: Settling in, exy, Andrew, clubs, girls, dancing, naked, Mom??, argument, police, fleeing the scene, hididing in a dumpster, crashing on your couch for a week cause [sings] technically I'm homeless!
> 
> It's bonna be fun, ya'll


	4. Goalkeeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew's back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of Andrew's medication

Neil's life settles into a routine over the next week: wake up, go for a run, meet Kevin, Aaron and Nicky at the court, practice, lunch, practice, run back to the apartment. Breakfast and dinner are small and by-the-way, the former because he knows better than to eat too much before heavy exercise and the latter because he's too tired for anything more.

Practice itself is like a dream come true, in the sense that reality ruins even the best things in life. More specifically, Kevin ruins even the best things in life. He's clearly correct in that Neil is far from being on par with the rest of them, much less Class I as a whole, but the fact that his standard is impossible to meet without the over-intense (not to mention illegal) training regimen of Edgar Allen seems to entirely escape him.

As for Kevin himself, Neil is right in that something is up about his abilities as a player. Kevin's precision sharpens with every practice at a pace much faster than reasonable. He'd almost say it's a parahuman ability, except instinct is telling him otherwise.

He's proven right on his fifth night at Palmetto, as he's about to fall asleep to the sound of Wymack grumbling about paperwork in his office.

**9\. Go to the court**

Every bone in his body is unanimously telling his brain to fuck off, but the plan is the plan, so he gets up from the couch, puts on his shoes, pockets his keys, and makes his way down the court. He doesn't run this time, still too sore from a day of hard exercise.

The front gate is closed when he reaches the stadium, but light is showing under the door. It's then that Neil notices Abby's car is behind him in the parking lot. He's so used to it being there he didn't notice when he passed right by it.

The sound of a ball ricocheting off Tinkerglass invites Neil from the foyer to the inner court, where Kevin is throwing Exy balls against the wall. Behind him is a row of orange cones, and after a minute Neil understands that he's attempting to take down specific cones by bouncing the ball off the glass. Attempting being the operative word.

Kevin doesn't notice Neil until he pounds once on the glass. Kevin removes his helmet and the steps out of the court, annoyance clear on his face. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Practicing."

Neil rolls his eyes. "I figured as much. But this isn't usual practice. You're training your right hand, right? You're still having trouble using it at practice." Kevin looks affronted at the criticism, but apparently has enough self-awareness to not deny it. 

Instead, he gestures to the cones. "It's a raven drill, one of a few. Any Raven who wants a spot on the line needs to perfect them all. Some spend months practicing."

"Teach me."

"No."

Neil is taken aback by the refusal. Kevin didn't even hesitate in answering, and he's now making to put his helmet back on like the conversation never happened. "What do you mean,  _ no? _ You spend all day telling me that I can't measure up but when I get an opportunity to close the gap you tell me  _ no? _ " Neil is shaking with a sudden influx of rage that appears seemingly out of nowhere. He's no stranger to being denied and insulted, but this is supposed to be the plan. It's supposed to be doable, within reach, every door open instead of under lock and key. He takes a deep breath and tries again. "Why not."

"Because Andrew doesn't trust you," Kevin says, as if that explains everything. "And since the only reason I'm at Palmetto is because of his say so, that means I'm listening to him."

Neil doesn't know what Andrew's issue with him is. First he tries to break Neil's ribs with an Exy racquet, then he comes to the airport apparently disguised as his brother, and now he's blocking Neil from gaining an edge just because… well Neil doesn't even know why. Neil thought that the goalie just doesn't like him for some reason, but Kevin's words make him pause. Maybe there's more to this.

"What do you mean, you're at Palmetto because of his say so?"

Kevin hesitates in answering, most likely taking a moment to mentally edit the truth. Annoying, but understandable. "Coach said he told you about the Moriyamas."

"Yes."

"Do you know how Andrew and I met?"

Does he ever. The article rests inside Neil's binder, tucked between Riko's Cosmopolitan cover and a coupon for one free assassination he got from a contact who found 12 year old him especially endearing. Andrew Minyard was a mystery, showing up at his family's door at age 14 after apparently running away from foster care. He and Aaron joined the Exy team, where Andrew proved to be a prodigy, catching the Raven's attention. Riko and Kevin had set up a personal meet-and-greet, except Andrew turned them down cold, and didn't stop there. When a local news channel tried to ask him about it, Andrew uttered a phrase that still haunts Edgar Allen to this day:

"It will be a cold, cold day in hell before I ever willingly play under Tetsuji Moriyama."

Through every scandal that followed Andrew since, and there were many, the media coverage always circled back to that line. What is so bad about Tetsuji that could make the man too controversial for the most controversial player alive? None could agree on the answer, and most chalked it up to Andrew's general craziness, but the question persists.

Neil nods in affirmation.

"Andrew knew that Tetsuji is a cape when we met him." He continues when he sees Neil's look of confusion, "No, I don't know he knows. Tetsuji wasn't even at that meeting. And he didn't outright say it, but the first reason he gave for not accepting the offer was that he wanted to 'Protect his individuality', and they got even less subtle from there. Somehow, he  _ knew. _ "

"And the Moriyamas didn't try to kill him for it?"

"Total honesty? I think they did try, and failed. I have no way to confirm it, but you know how Andrew was placed on medication? Yeah, I think the men who attacked Nicky were there to take out Andrew."

Neil nods along, not necessarily agreeing with Kevin but following his train of thought. "So when you escaped the hospital, you decided to come to Palmetto because—"

"Because if anybody could take on the Moriyamas, it would be Andrew. So we made a deal. He protects me from the Ravens, and when he comes off of his medication, I'll help him rebuild his life." The striker leans against the door into the court, sweat falling into his face.

Kevin is lying. Or at least, omitting the truth, leaving some crucial detail out. Neil is sure of it. But for now, he doesn't care. He has a plan to follow.

"That doesn't tell me why I can't practice with you."

"Because I trust Andrew, and he doesn't trust you. You want to practice with me, you need to win Andrew over. He'll be back and on the court in two days. Try him then. Now unless you have something else to do here, go to sleep. God knows you'll need every piece of energy you have to keep up."

Rule one of parahumans: tragic backstory does not less of an asshole make.

Neil makes his way back to Wymack's apartment equal parts furious, curious, and scheming. Steps are filling Neil's mind, useless little sentences and one-word commands that won't make a shred of sense until their time comes.

**Objective: Gain Andrew's trust / 8 steps**

No. If Andrew could see through Tetsuji, he could possibly see through Neil. He'll have to do this like a normal person.

As Neil falls back onto the couch, sparing a quick wave to Wymack as acknowledgement of his return, Neil lets his mind drift to other aspects of the plan.

Neil's power, by nature, knows more than Neil. It knows everything that will happen on the way to achieving his goal and will tell Neil exactly what he needs to do and when, but never  _ why. _ It's what makes it all so frustrating. The plan is telling him that soon, he will need to  _ agree _ and  _ go with Kevin _ and  _ answer him _ , but he doesn’t know  _ what _ he needs to agree to, or  _ where _ he needs to go with Kevin, or  _ who _ he needs to answer, and he won't know until he needs to do it.

Moments like these make Neil question his own sanity. He's following a ghost of a plan with maddeningly vague clues subject to change every time a particularly nasty cape throws a tantrum in the hope of fulfilling the most useless, unimportant dream he ever had. It's a terrible, stupid, half-baked idea running on little more than a "Trust me" uttered by his own delusional brain.

But Neil was born a dead man walking. If the end of this path holds his unmarked grave, he may as well skydive in.

* * *

 

Andrew Minyard, Neil thinks, is not a human but rather the humanoid personification of assholish behavior. According to Nicky it’s just the medication, but that doesn't make him feel much better.

The morning begins with Neil walking into the foyer to find Andrew chattering away at Kevin in the corner, only to stop and openly stare at Neil as soon as he comes in. "Neil! Finally, we meet properly." He walks right up to Neil and into his personal space. Neil's power offers an opening for taking Andrew down and away, but for now he ignores it. He can't practice with Kevin if he sends Andrew into another coma.

"I think we already have. You were very impressionable."

Andrew smiles brightly, hollowly. "So were you. Some gymnastics skills you got there, hmm? Let's see if they do you any good on the court." Neil senses something vaguely threatening in that sentence, but he doubts it will kill him, so he nods and heads to the locker room. A small part of him is more than a bit excited to see Andrew's playing style.

His style, as it turns out, is to  _ be a dick. _ This involves a seemingly random combination of standing at the goal and doing absolutely nothing and occasionally making the effort to redirect balls at everyone else's heads. It makes Neil almost doubt every word Kevin told him about their deal, because Kevin's constant yelling at Andrew is strong enough to make the glass vibrate. Andrew, for his part, either doesn’t respond or says something too low for Neil to hear which sends Kevin into a rage. It would be funny if Andrew's indifference didn't drive Kevin to take it out on Neil.

Practice ends, and they all head to the lockers. Neil sits down to wait until everyone else is in the shower as usual, except Andrew sits down next to him, this time a normal distance between them.

"What is it, Neil, not showering? Or just waiting until we're all gone so we can't see whatever's left of your skin under that shirt?"

Neil inhales so sharply it could probably cut something. Preferably Andrew, who just smiles again. "Oh don't look like that. The file your coach in Millport sent said that your parents were probably beating you. But you wouldn't still be shy if it were  _ just _ bruises."

"You had no right to read that." Neil is shaking from anger and worry and panic. That he could be so easily read is a nightmare come true.

"Well then it's a good thing I didn't, isn't it?" Andrew replies cheekily, and Neil wants to murder him. "Your coach said that the meet and greet would be easy to set up because you always shower last. Wymack asked him if your parents would be a problem and he said he nobody ever met them. But I'm right, aren't I? Do tell me what I got wrong, I'm curious." They're alone on the bench now, everybody else showering. Close, but unreachable to Neil.

Or to Andrew.

"Yes, I can see that," Neil replies, anger condensing until his voice is solid, sharp, betraying none of the heat behind it. "You're very, very curious about me. Why? Why are we having this conversation? Why disguise yourself as Aaron at the airport?"

"Because I'm curious."

This argument is going in circles. Andrew isn't hard to deflect, but it's impossible to win an argument with someone who wins by the virtue of having the argument at all. If Neil wants to get out of this, he needs  _ Andrew  _ to end the conversation. And Neil suspects he knows how to do that.

"Alright then, since we're revealing secrets, I have a question." Neil cocks his head to the side and casts his eyes down at Andrew's arms. "Why does the US Government have you barcoded like supermarket meat?"

Andrew's eyes don’t squint or dilate, but they do quickly dart to check the bend into the showers before coming back to focus on Neil. It's barely anything, but it's enough to confirm Neil's suspicion; he's the only one who knows about the tattoo. Andrew smiles again, but it's no longer hollow; Neil had struck a nerve, maybe more than one.

Scratch that,  _ definitely _ more than one, if the knife aiming for his throat is any indication. Neil's power lets him slap it away before it comes anywhere near him, and the both watch in quiet surprise as it hits the lockers and then clatters to the floor. Their eyes meet, and a second later they do it all again. And then again, and again, and again, until six small knives are strewn on the floor on either side of them.

Andrew is still smiling, but Neil doesn't care anymore; his smile is a superficial product of his medication, indicative of nothing. Andrew's eyes are his tell, and right now they're very annoyed and very, very curious. "Well aren't you a fun one." And with that, Andrew stands up, picks up his knives, and sashays away to the showers.

Neil sits there for another minute, wondering what just happened. The news always made Andrew out to be a bit of a mystery, but he's even more so in person. Andrew Minyard is hiding something big, so big that the only point of comparison to come to Neil is himself, and the prospect that Andrew is anything like him terrifies him, for both of their sakes. But unlike Andrew, Neil has no interest in figuring the other man out. He can keep his secrets. Neil is busy enough dealing with his own issues. So he picks up his clothes and heads to the showers.

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, Neil didn't exactly manage to win Andrew over with that conversation, as he finds out the next night when he comes back to Wymack's apartment from a run.

Wymack is in the living room, hand rubbing at his forehead. When he hears the door close he turns to Neil. "Please explain why Andrew thinks you're a spy sent by the Moriyamas."

Neil can't do anything but stare, and then shake his head a little bit. "I don't know. What did he say?"

"Say? Not much. But he did  _ rant _ quite a bit, mainly about how it's extremely suspicious that you're some nobody from nowhere who has no proof of his own existence beyond himself, and yet still managed to catch Kevin's eye, and apparently take him down in a knife fight? He was very vague in answering when I asked him if he tried to stab you, so I would actually love some clarification on that bit. But all of this led him to declare that you must be a Moriyama spy sent to either bring Kevin back to Evermore or just outright sabotage the team."

Neil has to hand it to Andrew, he picked up on every right puzzle piece yet still managed to be completely wrong. But he can hardly tell Wymack that, so he just resorts to some good old fashioned half-truths.

"I don't know what he wants from me, but best I can figure he's pissed that I'm taking up Kevin's attention. They seem oddly close?" Neil phrases it as a question, an invitation for Wymack to latch on to the subject and forget that he's supposed to be analyzing Neil.

Luckily, he takes the bait.

"They made a deal, when Kevin came to the Foxes. Andrew without his medication is… his old therapist called him 'unmotivated and joyless'. He has no drive, no desire for anything. He tried out for his high school Exy team on a dare and only accepted the offer to join because the coach bribed him with candy and alcohol. Which most people don’t know, so keep that bit quiet.

"Long story short, a sober Andrew doesn't care whether he lives or dies. So when Kevin said he can make Andrew care about Exy, they made a trade. Andrew will protect Kevin until he goes into rehab in May, and Kevin will need to prove that Andrew has something worth living for."

Neil considers the story. "Do you think Kevin can do it?"

"Not a clue. I've personally never met Andrew while he's sober. Nicky is optimistic, Aaron thinks it's a lost cause, and anything Kevin ever does is because he thinks he can or because there's an occasionally metaphorical gun to his head."

Neil makes a vague hum of understanding and goes to shower. But Wymack sees it fit to give one last warning. "I know you don't trust me much. That's fine. But never make the mistake of thinking that I'm more dangerous than Andrew."

It's not that he doesn't trust Wymack, Neil thinks as he showers. It's that years of his father's abuse won't let him be in Wymack's presence without calculating the distance between them. The first few times Wymack's footsteps woke Neil up in the morning, his power offered him multiple routes on how to escape or kill the man.

Wymack is holed up in his office again when Neil get out of the shower and settles down on the couch and lets the day's events go through his mind before he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

 

Where his and Andrew's first meeting on the court was riddled with Andrew's invasive curiosity, today is the opposite. Andrew spares him no attention at all, not even to send balls at his head and ankles. That is, until after practice, when Nicky's usual chattering turns to the news.

"Did you see the Legend's interview on CNN?"

"Yeah, because you made me watch," Aaron mutters while staring at his phone. "We get it, Nicky, you want Legend to sleep with you. Why you're still holding onto this dream, I don't know or care to."

"Hey, I have a chance, he's gay you know."

Aaron looks up to shoot a  _ witness my suffering _ look Neil's way before giving Nicky a scathing gaze. "Yes, I know. You know how I know? Because you never shut up about him. Ever. Which is also how I know that he is  _ married,  _ and you complained about missed opportunities for  _ three days _ after he let that slip in an interview, so please  _ shut up about him. _ "

Nicky pouts and mutters "He's so hot though" under his breath and then turns to Neil, apparently looking for support. "It's not just me, right? He's hot. Tell me you see it."

Neil just shrugs. "We can't even see his face, Nicky. He's always with his mask on."

Nicky laughs. "Oh please. Like the face matters. No, I mean his body. That suit is spandex and you see everything. Now don't you tell me you wouldn't—" Nicky shuts up suddenly and Neil notices that Andrew has appeared right behind him. It doesn't take long to figure out what's going on.

"Nicky," Andrew calls in a kindergarten teacher's voice, high pitched and patronizing. "What did we say about discussing capes?" The words make Neil freeze, because they're not spoken in English. The German is accented, but strangely so. Neil's heard Nicky speak German to his boyfriend on the phone, and that sounds like an American speaking German. But there's another accent hiding inside of Andrew's words, one he hides fine with English but less so now, though Neil still can't pinpoint it. British maybe? It sounds familiar. 

"Not to?" Nicky squeaks out. Apparently the two of them are in a contest to see who can raise their voice to the higher register.

"Not to." Andrew agrees. The conversation obviously ends there, but Andrew keeps the knife in place until Kevin impatiently honks from the car. A flick of his hand hides the blade underneath his armbands again, and with a smile he walks outside to the car.

Neil makes eye contact with Nicky, who gives a shaky smile in a bad attempt to brush the incident off. "That's not okay, Nicky."

"Oh that just how he is." Nicky's laugh is shaky and convinces no one. "He just hates capes and any talk of them. Doesn't care much for my interest in them." Neil already guessed that, but Nicky doesn't know that he can understand German, so he nods in gratitude at the explanation.

That doesn't mean it makes sense, though. "Why? What does he have against capes? Is it because of the airport?"

Nicky just shrugs. "Not a clue. This has been a thing for as long as I've known him, though I can't imagine that Shatterbird helped. It's probably because of the San Juan attack six years ago. The damage done to the city was bad enough that Aunt Tilda decided to haul ass and move to Columbia. Three months later the goddamn PRT shows up at her and Aaron's door with Andrew. No explanation, no paperwork, just 'here's your kid, have fun,' and off they fuck. I guess he got into a fight with a cape or something, though how he got from the California foster system to South Carolina is beyond me."

Another blast of the car horn and a yell from Kevin ends whatever Nicky was saying. As the cousins pile into the car and Neil begins running back to the apartment, Neil can't help but reflect on everything he's been told about Andrew in the past few days, and be suspicious. The goalkeeper is not just an obstacle, he's a problem, possibly even a threat. 

And he seems to have the exact same opinion of Neil.

* * *

 

> _ "As of 30 minutes ago, sources within the PRT are confirming that Leviathan has retreated back into the bay and disappeared. Flooding crosses the Montague Expressway, 101, and 237, into North San Jose and Sunnyvale. Local PRT has established several check-in relief shelter across the city, as well as instructions for those inside municipal Endbringer shelters. Commands are as follows: _
> 
> _ Shelters SJ-8, SJ-9, SJ-11, SV-2, and SV-6, keep your shelter doors closed and sealed. I repeat, keep your doors closed. The shelter doors are below water level, and any attempt to open the doors before designated capes arrive will result in flooding. Please keep your doors closed. _
> 
> _ Shelters SJ-1, SJ-2, SJ-4, SJ-7, SJ-12, SV-1, SV-3, SV-4, SV-5, and MP-2, you are  cleared to open your doors. Emergency services are waiting in your corresponding community centers. Designated shelter volunteers, as well as any professional medical personnel, please stay behind in the shelters to prepare any injured persons for airlift. Specialized emergency services will arrive shortly. _
> 
> _ All other shelters are cleared to open their doors. Community relief centers have been established at San Jose International Airport, Rancho Milpitas Middle School, Great Mall, Cataldi Park, and Mountain View Center for Performing Arts, as well as San Jose City Hall, Sunnyvale City Hall, and the San Jose Protectorate Headquarters. _
> 
> _ Please be mindful of debris and unstable infrastructure, and respect private property. Ensure that children don't wander, and be aware of where you are and what you're walking on. Do not touch any corpses found on the streets. If people in your shelter died, leave the bodies where they are. Roaming outside after dark is heavily discouraged. Any persons who know or suspect that they may have experienced a trigger event are encouraged to come forward to San Jose Protectorate Headquarters." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was NOT meant to be so Andrew-centric, but here we are.
> 
> From now on, any questions left in the comments will be answered at the end notes of the next chapter. So if you have a question, go ahead and ask. If I can answer, I will.
> 
> Well, Andrew is a cryptic little shit. Wonder what his deal is, hmm? Lets see how long before any of you Worm fans figure it out.
> 
> Next chapter: The upperclassmen! Fun stuff! Not so fun but still entertaining stuff!
> 
> It's gonna be fun, y'all.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at aledethanlast.tumblr.com


	5. Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: use of conventional weapons

June arrives, bringing with it the opening of Fox Tower and leaving behind any doubt that South Carolina is actually a piece of Australia that God ended up not using and had to stick elsewhere. Neil's runs grow shorter as the risk of heat stroke increases, and he spends more and more of the day indoors. More specifically, he spends most of the day sleeping.

The sunlight hours drag on in a blur of Exy practices made hell by Kevin's bid for the title of biggest diva who ever lived. Truly, whatever it is that Andrew knows about the Moriyamas must be incredibly valuable, because Neil doesn't see any other way Kevin could have made their deal before Andrew stabbed him.

Though as the days may be exhausting physically, every night for the past two and a half weeks has left him exhausted mentally as he worked on the plan.

* * *

As much as any industry evolved to resist parahuman tampering, casinos put everyone else to shame. It didn't take long for the world to realize that while a Brute can destroy a vault or a Breaker can just jump right in, any moderately-powered Thinker could clean out the house without ever nearing security. 

The resulting counter-measures make Neil's work all the more complicated. But not by much.

The air conditioning as he steps into the Las Vegas Nights casino is a sweet relief, but the sweating isn't just from the Atlanta heat. The ID he gives the bouncer should be good enough, but it's hardly the best he ever had, and he doubts that the makeup currently making him look a solid decade older is as waterproof as it claims. The bouncer, most likely a low-level Thinker himself, waves him through to security. The PPA banned public places from proactively outing anyone as a cape, so until such point as he used his power, his presence will go unnoticed. And he has no intention of using his power.

He heads to the blackjack table first, the woman at the counter giving him a slow once-over. He places a stack of blue chips on the table, and she deals him in. The first rounds, he wins a modest sum, but the next he loses it all. The third and fourth go the same way, but the fifth nearly quadruples his original bet. A look of relief and surprise washes over his face, and he packs up his chips and leaves, not waiting for a round six.

As he heads over to the roulette tables, he pauses to take a slip of paper out of his pocket. He made a point of remembering all the instructions for the blackjack table on the way to the casino, and he takes a moment to do the same now for the next few games.

He makes sure to sparse the night with various losses of varying amounts, for the sake of maintaining his cover. He won't be coming back here, and he's burning the ID as soon as he leaves, but the city's various casinos tend to share intel on security matters. Still, when he crashes back onto Wymack's couch at 3 in the morning, he's just over a hundred grand richer than he was 8 hours ago.

The money itself, thankfully, is not something he needs to be worried about. The Number Man reserves his services as an accountant for villains only, and while Neil considers himself a rogue—the cape term for a neutral party—the man's hallmark service is discretion and a refusal to take sides. To the best of Neil's knowledge, The Number Man is the only person beyond himself who knows his true identity.

It suddenly occurs to Neil that The Number Man probably manages the Moriyama and Wesninski accounts, too.

* * *

When Neil wakes up it's the early afternoon, and he briefly wonders why Kevin hasn't barged in demanding to know why he isn't at the court when he remembers that they're supposed to move into Fox Tower today. He gets up from the couch and heads into the kitchen, hoping that there's milk left in the fridge, but when he comes in he pauses as Wymack's gaze meets his. The coach is sitting at the small island in the middle of the kitchen with a cup of coffee on his right and a stack of papers on his left. He only responds to Neil's unsure "Good morning" with a raised eyebrow, but when Neil finally sits down with the cereal he's taken to buying for himself he says "How was your night?"

Neil pauses as he considers how to answer. He knows, logically, that Wymack knows about his unusual schedule, and that it only started a week after he came to Palmetto, but this is the first time that he's acknowledged it. "It was fine," he says in the end. The word has a broad enough meeting for it not to be a lie, but Wymack's gaze tells Neil that he doesn't believe him anyway.

Still, Wymack doesn't push, something for which Neil is incredibly grateful. (Not that he'll ever admit that. It would imply a debt that Neil has no intention of being made to pay.)

"You're rooming with Matt and Seth," Wymack says. "Seth's flight only lands in the afternoon, but Matt will be here in two hours. I suggest you move in and get cleared by Abbey before then." He flicks his gaze to the table drawer hiding Neil's duffel. "Shouldn't take long for you."

* * *

He's only half right, as it turns out. The contents of Neil's duffel take about three seconds to shove into the bottom drawer of his new bedroom, but a single look around tells him that he'll need to get some shopping done. He won't be able to take both his duffel and his shopping bags in one go, and he still hasn't gotten around to buying a car, so he debates the pros and cons of leaving his duffel behind with Matt showing up any minute. In the end, he decides to take the risky route. 

A simple reorganizing of the duffel that he and his mother conceived years ago will tell Neil if anybody tries to look through it. After that, he's out the door. A muffled ruckus comes from the next room over, where the cousins and Kevin are moving into their own dorm and bringing their own furniture with them, unlike Neil. He intends to buy bedsheets and bathroom supplies first, but before that he stops at the court, figuring it's smarter to go through his physical without several bags of supplies in the way.

The outer doors are open, so Neil heads right to Abby's office. On the way he passes Wymack's door, which is closed, but a loud voice can be heard beyond it.

"Neil, hi!" Abby says cheerfully when he knocks on her open door. "Come in, we'll do this quickly. Matt should be here soon." Neil knows that  _ quickly _ is the best he can hope for, but the concept of Abby knowing anything about him leaves a cold sweat on his brow. Abby must notice his hesitation, because she feels the need to reassure him that there's nothing she hasn't seen before. Neil very much doubts that.

The initial prodding is par for the course, but Neil stops cold when instructed to take off his shirt. "I'm not on drugs," he says.

"Proud of you," Abby replies with the same clinical voice she's adopted since the physical started. "Now take off your shirt."

A stare-down commences for about two minutes, Neil stubborn but silently pleading, Abby unimpressed and unrelenting, and in the end Neil inhales deeply and lifts his shirt over his head. Abby’s eyes widen in shock, but she makes no sound and methodically examines every scar. After a minute, she gives him the go ahead to put his shirt back on, which he can't seem to do quickly enough. As he all but runs away from the room, he can't help but wonder if he was wrong.

He reaches the foyer and almost runs right into a solid wall of a human being. It takes Neil a second to place the man, since in post-game interviews his hair is matted to his head and not gelled into spikes as it is now: Matt Boyd, starting backliner.

"Hi!" His smile is radiant, if a bit uncertain at Neil's… odd appearance. "I'm Matt."

"I know," Neil says, because he just had to show someone the scars he'd been hiding for basically his entire life and that makes it hard to properly fake being interested in other people. "I mean, hi, I'm Neil."

Matt's smile gains that last percentage of genuineness it was missing and he shakes Neil's hand. The contact draws Neil's eyes to Matt's forearm, which is a)  _ fucking huge, holy shit, how much does he bench?  _ b) marked by a row of small dots. Matt notices. "Battle fought and won." He doesn't elaborate beyond that, and doesn't really need to.

"Boyd!" Wymack's gruff voice enters the room a second before the man himself does, with a sour look on his face and warmth in his eyes. "Don't hassle him."

"I'm not hassling him! I'm just saying hi. I'm guessing you just finished with Abby? Then you can wait for me and I can take us both to the dorms."

"It's okay, I already did the hard part," Neil raises his hands in a  _ look, no bags _ gesture while Wymack scoffs at his words. "I'm actually headed out to buy supplies. I'll meet you back at the tower."

"Cool." Matt nods his head once and makes for Abby's office. "See ya."

Neil considers warning Matt against touching his things, but in the end figures that he can use it as a test of sorts. Plus, Matt seems like a nice person, so he'll probably be fine.

The run to the store threatens to melt the rubber off the soles of Neil's shoes. He buys bed sheets, toiletries, small packs of snacks, and from the apocalypse survival shop across the street—an understandably growing industry in recent years—he buys a small safe and a single-use air-filtration unit. The walk back is even worse with the bags. He should really buy that car before the school year starts. Or maybe a bike. That could be cool.

To Neil's complete lack of surprise, his return to the third floor of Fox Tower is accompanied by sirens, yelling, and a bunch of angry people crowded around his door. Wymack, the cousins, and Matt are there, as well as two women Neil hasn't met before but quickly recognizes as Dan Wilds, team captain offensive dealer, and Renee Walker, goalkeeper. Andrew's scowling, and his eyes are severely swollen. Matt notices Neil first and waves him over, but Wymack is quicker to be suspicious of the lack of confusion on his face.

"Hey, you won't believe thi—" Matt begins before Wymack cuts him off. 

"Actually, I think he will believe it. In fact, Neil, I'm going to give you one guess as to why we're all standing out here right now."

Andrew is the only one who seems at all amused when Neil digs the air filtration unit out of one of the plastic bags by way of response. "Explain yourself.  _ Now. _ "

"Don't worry," At this point, Neil's matter of fact tone isn't doing him any favors, but a good punchline is all about the delivery. "The gas isn't that strong. Won't even set into the furniture."

Wymack has covered his eyes with his hand and begun muttering something in a language Neil doesn't speak but understands anyway from the tone, so it's Dan who assumes the lead. "Uh, we sorta got that, but  _ why  _ did you set off a tear gas canister in your room?"

"I didn't." He nods at Andrew, whose understanding smile is going to work against him in a few seconds. "He did."

Like a practiced move, everyone's heads turn to Andrew, and then immediately back to Neil. To their credit, Kevin, Aaron and Wymack seem to have connected the dots. "Explain."

"The canister was in my bag, connected to the zipper. When heard me leave earlier and broke into our room, he opened the zipper, and the canister opened." Neil shrugs. "I don't like people going through my things."

He can see the gears turning in the upperclassmens’ heads. From wondering if Neil is a lunatic to wondering why he considered Andrew's snooping to be a given. 

The whole thing would've worked better if the last two members of the team, Seth Gordon and Allison Reynolds, were here too, but the timing wouldn't have it. Overall, was planting tear gas the smartest idea ever? No. But the Foxes would have to learn to be weary of Neil at some point, so they may as well learn now. As for Andrew, you can't burn a bridge you haven't built yet.

Wymack seems to finally gather himself. "I feel like I should be regretting something, but I'm not sure what. Andrew, don't look through Neil's wardrobe, you can judge his fashion sense when he's wearing it like the rest of us. Neil, I want to emphasize that while I've said  _ many _ unorthodox things as the coach of this team, I have to admit that this is a new one, so listen carefully because I won't repeat it _ : don't use riot control weapons on your teammates. _ Or classmates. I'd say in general but I feel like that ship's already sailed." He raises his voice slightly so that everyone will hear him over the still beeping alarm. "I will see all of you at the court in half an hour."

Neil doesn't comment on the last bit, but he copies the rest of the team's "Yes coach" and goes to clean up the mess.

* * *

Matt never actually got to bring up any of his furniture before the alarms started blaring, so after the smoke alarm is finally deactivated he guilt-trips Neil into helping him after practice. His friendliness hasn't waned, but there's a nervous air to him that wasn't there before and Neil doesn't fully understand, but then he sees Matt try to subtly look through the kitchen in search for more tear gas.

"Don't worry, it was just the one canister." 

Matt shoots up from where he was crouching in front of the cabinets under the sink, and he gives him a sheepish smile. "Oh good. Next I was going to look for nerve gas in the air vents."

Dan and Renee, for their part, have decided to attempt the "interrogate nicely" approach. Dan offers him cookies which would taste great if not for the fact that each one contains more sugar than Neil's consumed in the past three years combined.

"So Neil," Dan starts. "How's Palmetto been so far? Tell me that the monsters haven't completely ruined us in your eyes."

Neil shrugs. "They're okay. I can handle them."

"So I've gathered."

The rest is as expected, where he's from, what do his parents do, and the like. Unlike Nicky's initial attempts to find out what qualified Neil for the foxes, the girls seemed to just want to know him, which is a nice change, if still wholly unwelcome.

The chat comes to an end ten minutes before they need to head to the court with a knock on the door. Matt opens it to reveal Andrew, eyes still redder than a tourist’s sunburn but smiling anyway. "Hello, Mr. Josten," he says. "Is your son home? I forgot to bring flowers, but don't worry, I'll treat him well." He turns to Neil. "Let's talk. Privately."

Matt is unimpressed. "Why in hell should we leave him alone with you? You'll probably try to stab him at the first opportunity."

What Matt doesn't understand is that Neil  _ does _ want to talk to Andrew; this stalemate needs to end as quickly as possible. "He already tried that, it didn't take. Don't worry, I'll be fine." He pointedly ignores Matt’s look of bewilderment and leaves before any more protests can arise from him or the girls. He closes the door behind him, and then it’s just Neil and Andrew alone.

“What do you want?” He figures it will go faster if he gives Andrew the starting advantage.

“I don’t trust you,” Andrew says.

“Obviously.”

“I’m not finished.” Andrew holds a finger up. “I don’t trust you, and that would usually mean that my first objective would be to destroy you.”

“I’m not a threat to you.”

“And is me speaking a threat to you? Because I see no other reason as to why you would keep interrupting me.” Andrew stares at Neil for moment to emphasize him point, then continues. “I would  _ like _ to destroy you, as that would save me a whole lot of trouble right out the gate, but Kevin has got it into his head that we need you, and won’t relent despite recent evidence suggesting that you take the concept of secrets even more seriously than I do. And as fun as it is telling Kevin no, on this I can’t refuse him. 

“So here’s my question, Josten: why in hell should I trust you?”

The first response to pop into Neil’s head is  _ Good god, don’t. _ But that’s the exact opposite of what he wants, which leaves him fishing for answers. Luckily, Andrew doesn’t seem to actually be looking for an answer.

“Oh, no, please, don’t waste my time with half-witted explanations. I wouldn’t believe them anyway. No, here’s my offer: Friday, you come with us to Columbia. Use this week to make whatever impression you like of Wymack and the upperclassmen, but next Friday we get to know each other properly. We know a club. Drinks, dancing, it’ll be a blast, just you wait.”

**12\. Go to Columbia**

Of course. Neil nods his head, trying to not appear to excited. This is exactly the opportunity he’s been waiting for, but he can’t let on. “I don’t do either.”

“Neither does Kevin. You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Neil is about to laugh at the mere suggestion, but the upperclassmen pick that moment to come out of his and Matt’s room. Dan glares at Andrew, before moving gaze to Neil. “You okay?”

It’s odd, Neil thinks, that he can set off a grenade by way of introduction and still be considered helpless against Andrew. Odd, and possibly advantageous.

Andrew clicks his tongue. “Oh, how you villainize me. Trust me, if I had any intention of hurting your poor lamb I would’ve already done it. Though, actually,” He gives a theatrical pause at that, then: “Actually, maybe I wouldn’t have. Tell me Neil, is that sheepskin your own or a costume? Are there fangs in your mouth?”

Andrew waves off whatever response Matt was about to give. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Neil and I have already settled our differences. In fact, he’s agreed to ride with us to the court! Isn’t that right?”

Neil nods, much to the surprise of the upperclassmen. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s being mugged, but he’s been mugged a dozen times before and always walked away. The muggers, not so much. “Don’t worry,” he tells them. “I’ll be fine.”

When they finally leave (with a fair bit of shooing on Andrew’s part) Andrew bangs on the door to his own dorm, and the rest of his lot shuffle out a minute later. Much like the upperclassmen, they’re all more than a little surprised to find out that Neil is willing to ride with them to the court.

The cousin’s insurance on their previous car must have been expensive, because the new one screamed  _ money _ even to Neil’s untrained eye. This new car is a sleek combination of black and gunmetal gray, and for the second time that day Neil’s perception of Andrew shifts completely.

Because what kind of pretentious fuck buys a car to match their clothes.

The seating arrangement this time is different than it was in May, coming back from Columbia. Andrew drives, Kevin is in the passenger seat, and Neil is once again in the middle, this time between Aaron and Nicky.

They barely leave the dorm’s parking lot when Andrew speaks. “Let me make one thing clear, Neil. I don’t trust you.” He sees Neil’s confused face and raises a hand to hush him. “Don’t interrupt me. I don’t trust you, and I don’t like you. Your little stunt was admittedly surprising, points for out of the box thinking, but if you think you can get in my way then you are sorely mistaken.”

Neil doesn’t even understand the purpose of this conversation, but he finds the answer in the glances the cousins send his way. An old contact once told him that half of doing any given job well is to give the appearance that you’re doing it well. Andrew’s role is the stubborn, no-allowances-given maniac and leader of the group. But he also protects virtual strangers without any guarantee that the other party can deliver, and this is how he reconciles the two. Bluster masking subtlety masking bluster, and none of it a lie.

“You can’t break me.”

“You sound so very sure about that. But I like a challenge.”

“Do you know what your problem is?” 

Neil can see Andrew’s grin in the rear view mirror. “Oh, do tell.”

“Your problem is that you think your threats are original. So let me clarify: you’re not the first person to make idle threats against me, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

“I don’t make idle threats.” Andrew’s amusement is gone. Oh, Neil struck a nerve there. “If I make a promise, I deliver.”

“Can you, though?” Neil asks, and Andrew almost crashes the car, because Neil didn’t say that in English.

It took a bit of eavesdropping to fully understand the language dynamics of the group, but he figured it out. Nicky, naturally, learned German while living in Germany. He came back, and used his fluency to aid the twins when they learned the language themselves in high school. To no surprise, Nicky’s accent is very different from the twins’. What  _ is  _ surprising is Andrew’s apparent fluency in French, a skill Aaron doesn’t share. He can’t place the accent, but it’s clearly different from Kevin’s mix of American and native French. Trying to untangle the knots of the cousins’ history has been one of Neil’s more minor distractions these past few weeks, but he’s glad he paid attention.

“You want to make a play for my secrets, go ahead.” Neil continues, returning to English. “You won’t find what you’re looking for.”

“Oh, but Neil, that’s just it,” There’s no humor left in Andrew’s voice, but the words manage to be mocking all on their own. “I’m not looking for a goddamn thing.”

* * *

Entering the court’s lounge makes for Neil’s introduction to the Fox hierarchy, and it’s as blatant as he suspected. Andrew’s lot sit on the couch directly across the entertainment center, Andrew in the middle, Aaron on his left, Kevin on his right, Nicky on the left armrest. Neil sits on an armchair a sufficiently neutral distance away from the couch. The upperclassmen spread across the other chairs and love seat as Wymack comes in from his office to chat with them.

Seth Gordon finally arrives, and a sizeable portion of the plan suddenly makes perfect sense. His contempt for everything in his line of sight is palpable as he crashes down into an empty chair. He and Matt do this weird thing that’s like a high five, except they grab each other’s forearms, but everyone else gets a scathing glare.

Allison Reynolds is next, and she takes a moment to look around the room before setting eyes on Neil. “I’m gonna sit next to you,” she says, and Seth starts growling like an angry dog. So this is what Matt meant earlier by on-again, off-again. Allison sits on the armrest of the chair, pants riding up her thighs as she settles.

“I could move over, if you like.”

Allison makes direct eye contact with Seth as she says “I’m good.”

Luckily, there’s no opportunity for the team’s various point of contention to rear their ugly heads because Wymack finally stands up and commands their attention. “Thank you for finally showing up, you two. So let’s begin. All of you know the drill. You don’t go on court before Abby clears you and signs these papers. They confirm that you’re legally healthy and sane enough to play, and that you tell us if and when you become a parahuman.

“I’m obligated to say this every year, but Neil, this is for your sake so pay attention. You’ll know you had a trigger event if feel a sudden shortness of breath, followed by blacking out for a few seconds. Usually between three and ten seconds. Right after, you’ll feel like you just forgot a dream, but the feeling will fade quickly. Everyone got it?”

Neil remembers the “dream” perfectly, but he wouldn’t say that to other capes, much less civilians, so he nods along with everyone else. To the best of Neil’s knowledge, there is only one other person who knows the truth, and she’s been imprisoned in the Birdcage for almost a decade now.

“Great,” Wymack continues. “Moving on, we’re meeting tomorrow at 8 am in the gym. Not the court, the gym. You all know where it is. If any of you are late because you came to the court you will do your cardio on the asphalt outside without shoes.

“Two last things, and then we’re done. First, this is our new striker sub, Neil. Most of you have already met him, and the rest can catch up on your own time.  Second, there’s been a change in the district line-up.” He pauses then, to see who’s caught on yet. “Edgar Allen is coming south.”

Neil and his mother once hid in a small café in Spain that had artworks on the walls. One of them was Picasso’s Guernica. Not the original, of course, but Neil remembered being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of chaos trapped in a single scene.

The Foxes’ reaction to Wymack’s words puts Picasso to shame.

Dan and Renee, to their credit, don’t make a sound, though their eyes widen in shock. Seth starts laughing hysterically, Allison is swearing like a sailor, and Matt looks like someone just told him that the son he didn’t know he has was arrested. Wymack is trying to explain the ERC’s decision, but he quickly loses track of his own argument, and it’s soon apparent that he’s waiting for Andrew’s reaction.

Neil himself is curious too, except it appears that he’s out of luck. His usual blank smile is back, with no hint of nuance behind it. In fact, he seems to have completely spaced out on the conversation. Kevin notices the staring in his stead. “What?” He says. “I told him right after you told me.”

Wymack lets out a shaky breath. “Good. That makes this easier. Point is, it’s useless to complain. We’re gonna get out there, and we’re going to play our hearts out.”

“Against the Ravens?” Seth asks. “We’ll be crushed.”

“Probably,” Neil says, turning everyone’s heads towards him. “But don’t tell me you you’re not going to milk an opportunity to body-slam Ravens for all its worth.”

Seth points at Neil. “Shorty’s got a point.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Focus, people,” Wymack interjects. “Let’s finish up so you can finish moving in and getting your paperwork done. Physicals, Neil Josten, Edgar Allen, in that order. Questions? Comments? Concerns? Anyone besides Seth? Great. See you all tomorrow.”

* * *

Neil is helping Matt get his couch to their dorm (which one would think Matt would’ve figured out how to do easily by now) when Matt’s curiosity finally gets the better of him.

“So what’s the deal with you and Andrew?” He asks. “I mean, he distrusts everyone, the rest of the monsters included, but breaking into your room and looking through your stuff is a bit much.”

Neil doesn’t see the point in lying to Matt. “He thinks I’m a Moriyama spy sent to either bring Kevin back to Evermore or just sabotage the Foxes wholesale. The part where he can’t decide on which it is doesn’t seem to bother his conviction much.”

“And you thought the best way to convince him is with  _ tear gas? _ ”

Neil almost stumbles on the steps, and takes a minute to readjust his grip on the couch before they continue up. “No, I just don’t take well to breaches of privacy. Convincing him is for Friday.”

“Friday?” This time it’s Matt who almost falls. “Tell me you’re not going to Columbia.”

“I am, why?”

As they reach the third floor and move the couch into their room, Matt tells Neil about his night with the cousins a year before. Neil doesn’t know how to feel about it, but he does know that Matt just placed him in a far better position than he was three hours ago. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“So you’re still going.”

“Do I have a choice? This push and pull can’t last forever. At the very least, a cold war is better than a hot one.”

“What, afraid you can’t take Andrew in a fight?” Matt mocks.

“I didn’t say anything about a  _ fight. _ ”

* * *

After Neil, Matt and Seth have all moved in, the latter two head over to the girl’s dorm while Neil stays behind, ready for sleep. In reality, he spends the next forty minutes combing through his binder, pages hidden under the blankets in case anyone walks in, picking out potential allies and confidantes and intelligence peddlers for the later steps of the plan, too complex to pull off on his own.

Here’s the thing about laws: they don’t exist. They’re as much a construct of society’s collective imagination as money or blood or language. Every day, laws are broken, and the appropriate people are notified, and those appropriate people ask themselves “Is this worth my time? My resources? My safety?”

The true power of the Moriyamas is to keep the answer at a steady  _ no. _ But nothing lasts forever. A bond snaps. Loyalty frays. Alliances change and the wind shifts and  _ no _ turns to  _ yes, yes, yes. _

* * *

_ “—Now for those of you who don’t know, Skeletor is a cartoon character from the  _ He-Man  _ franchise, which is owned by Mattel. So when an Australian villain first donned Skeletor’s mask and branded himself by the same name, the people at Mattel were obviously pissed the fuck off. _

_ “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “Oliver, tell me they didn’t try to sue Skeletor.” Well guess what? YES THEY FUCKING DID. Because since Mattel holds the contract for manufacturing toys for Protectorate heroes, it doesn’t look good that they’re now technically selling villain merchandise. _

_ “Now, Mattel is a multi-billion dollar company. Filing lawsuits is hardly a new practice for them. This is hardly out of character or worthy of notice. What IS worthy of notice is the fact that apparently, Skeletor actually showed up to court.  _

_ “See, while Mattel couldn’t punish  _ him  _ for using the name, they could punish others. They banned the name from use on tv and newspapers, took down any social media posts referencing him, and generally did their best to bury his very existence. _

_ “According to the files leaked, the Australian villain and the company struck a deal giving him legal access to the name, persona, and costume, and Skeletor promised to go out of his way to leave Mattel and their linked companies alone in whatever stunt he pulls. Which is a pretty sweet deal. Except for the part where they got caught. _

_ “Now, various executives are being investigated, and it’s likely that Mattel’s Protectorate contract won’t be renewed. And we all know what that means: Alexandria is joining the Disney Princess lineup!” _

_ —John Oliver, Last Week Tonight _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter is late!**  
>  Yeah, sorry, but i graduated! Can we focus on the fic, please?  
>  **...Skeletor**  
>  A different part of the fic. Literally any other part.  
>  **Skeletor tho**  
>  Yes, Skeletor.  
>  **Will we see Skeletor again?**  
>  Well since you asked nicely.  
>  **And He-Man?**  
>  He-Man is dead to me.  
>  **Anyways, what is Neil up to? Robbing casinos? Planting tear gas?**  
>  Neil is one busy, messy, melodramatic bitch.  
>  **...Columbia...**  
>  Columbia indeed.
> 
> Up next: alcohol, secrets, and hey, maybe I'll send Andrew into another coma. The night is young.
> 
> Also: I am opening (drumroll please) interludes! You can find out how those work [here!](http://aledethanlast.tumblr.com/post/162411187017/introducing-interludes)
> 
> It's gonna be fun, yall.


	6. Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eden ain't as heavenly as it sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW for drug abuse. This is the Eden chapter, so ya'll know what I mean.)

Eden’s Twilight is a cacophony so massive Neil can hear it minutes before it comes into his view from the backseat. The cousins had made no secret of their destination, but the juxtaposition the ride’s silence and the relative mildness of their “dinner” at Sweety’s with the controlled riot of the club is jarring.

They stop right at the door to the club and pile out. Nicky throws the keys to a valet, and the group walks inside, skipping the line entirely. The people waiting grumble about unfairness, but between the monsters and the bouncers, Neil seems to be the only one who pays them any attention.

The inside of the club is a mess of sounds and colors. Music pounds away at the clubbers’ hearts, the song familiar but remixed and played at volumes stripping away all defining details beyond a heavy beat that shakes every surface. Lights strobe overhead in an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of color. The dance floor sits indented into the ground, a square in the large room’s center, framed in three sides by two stairs leading up to the main level. To their right, people being allowed in from the line are given glowing bracelets, each one a different combination of colors shining under the blacklight like glow-in-the-dark DNA. Tucked against the back wall above the DJ is a small balcony, though Neil doesn’t see any way up. 

Nicky and Aaron head down the three steps onto the dance floor in search of a table while Andrew leads Neil and Kevin to the bar spanning the entire left wall. The mesh of bodies is near-suffocating, but Neil spent years disappearing in a crowd. Right now, the people he knows pose a bigger problem than any stranger.

Andrew finally gets them to the counter, though how he managed it when the average partier is a half a foot taller is beyond Neil. It takes him a few minutes to catch the attention of the bartender—the  _ only _ bartender, Neil noticed—but eventually the man notices them and comes over with a warm smile and glowing purple eyes, and Neil’s blood runs cold.

Of all the bartenders on the planet, Andrew just had to be friends with Roland fucking Margos.

Neil turns around frantically, and it’s like a glamour was stripped away. The lights aren’t strobing, but  _ reflected _ . Reflected by dozens, if not hundreds, of glasses of various sizes and colors flying overhead like a menagerie of Neil’s worst nightmares, shattering the light into prisms caught in their own rhythm across floor and wall and skin.

Kevin notices his staring, but thankfully mistakes his abject horror for awe. “Roland and his sister are basically why the club exists,” he explains. “They’re Shakers/Thinkers. Roland’s telekinesis allows him to make dozens of drinks at a time, and Candice uses people’s bracelets to keep track of what they order, and she can tell if you want a refill, to change drinks, and sometimes she can tell when people are about to throw up and gets them buckets. Order with Roland once, and you’re set for the entire night.”

“Then why don’t we have wristbands?”

“She knows who we are,” Andrew says with an empty smile, conveying a sense of  _ Cool, right? _

To Andrew, maybe. To Neil, the concept of being “known” is kind of a worst-case scenario.

“What are you having?” Roland asks. 

“I don’t drink.” Roland shifts his gaze to Andrew, who just shrugs, and gives a small nod. He says “Alright, nice meeting you,” and leaves to take more orders. Neil’s eyes follow his movements. 

“How’d they trigger?” Andrew sends him a searching gaze, but in the end only shrugs in response. Kevin, meanwhile, gives Neil a sour look. “You don’t ask people how they trigger, Neil. You’re basically asking for the worst moment of their lives.”

It’s a non-answer, but Neil is willing to take it that they don’t know. If the twins are smart, they never will.

But as memories a decade buried resurface, Neil’s fear ebbs, slowly replaced by determination, and maybe a glimmer of hope.

**12\. Go to Columbia**

The plan brought Neil here for a reason. If he can gain Andrew’s trust  _ and  _ the Margos twins? Then all the better.

They find Aaron and Nicky at a table on the far side of the dance floor, one side flush against the wall. Their drinks, which Neil realizes must have followed them from the bar, land at the center of the table, over a dozen shot glasses in a rainbow of colors arranged in a winky face. As they sit down, the glasses shuffle themselves until each person has their own number of shots in front of them. Within seconds, Neil is the only one without a drink in front of him, until a Coca-Cola glass floats down his way.

Andrew raises an eye at the fizzy drink. “What, not a drinker?” The question is obviously meant to be prying, but he accepts Neil’s shake of his head without further comment. “Well then, bottoms up.”

The soda is sweeter than Neil remembers it being, but Neil last had coke when he was fourteen, so he doesn’t think much of it. But with his glass halfway through another sip, he catches Nicky’s eye. He’s just downed a jaeger bomb, but he’s staring at Neil. Not necessarily in a  _ malicious _ way, but it still sets off every possible alarm in Neil’s hea—oh no. No no no no no. 

He tries to escape his chair, but Andrew is suddenly there, gripping him too hard, too close. “Right then, Neil, how about you answer some questions,” he says into Neil’s ear. Neil wants to shove him away, and his power wants to go several steps further than that, but escape must come first. But suddenly Andrew is spinning him around and Nicky is dragging him to the dance floor and Neil is just too uncoordinated to get away.

The strobe effect of the glasses above sends Neil into a vortex of light, his mind supplying instructions he doesn’t know how to follow, and he keeps tumbling down, down, down, until he hits the bottom.

No.

Not bottom. Side.

He’s being shoved against the wall by a pair of hands leading down to broad shoulders. Andrew’s. He has no idea where they are or where the others have gone, but for now it’s just the two of them.

“Now then,” Andrew yells over the noise. “Why did Tetsuji send you?”

It takes seconds for Andrew’s words to register. “I don’t work for Tetsuji.”

“Then why the fuck are you in Palmetto?”

“To play Exy.” Andrew shoves him into the wall again. “What do you expect me to say? Why would Tetsuji send me? What the fuck do you  _ expect _ from me?” The last question has been eating away at Neil since May. What is it about Andrew that makes him so suspicious? What piece of evidence is he looking for that would justify the months of alternating silence and hostility?

Andrew isn’t moved. “You’re no one. Less than no one. Your old coach says you just show up one day and start playing like a pro. You’re a high schooler from a literal Nowhere City who catches Kevin’s eye and causes him to throw a tantrum just so Wymack would recruit you. Neil Josten is a cover story, and a shitty one at that.”

Neil grunts. “Because you’re an expert on cover stories, aren’t you?”

The reaction he gets is surprising. Andrew’s eyes widen, just a fraction, before smoothing back into a murderous glare. Neil was joking, but Andrew’s mind took his words at face value before anything else. Which means that Andrew  _ is _ , on some level, an expert on cover stories. In other words, Neil just called the wrong bluff.

Whatever the fuck they gave him, it obviously destroyed any sense of self composure Neil has, because he can see Andrew reading his face like an open book, and he’s obviously not happy about it. The interrogator is not supposed to be the one pressed for information.

“Who. The fuck. Are you.” He growls. Actually  _ growls. _

“Nobody of importance. I’m not a threat to you.”

“Prove it.”

_ “How?” _

_ “Tell me who you are or I will destroy you.” _

Neil is sick of this. He’s sick of this night and this stupid club and this whole charade. Here he is, bouncing from one risky plan to the next so he can rid this world of his father and the Moriyamas, and yet he can’t make a move because this vertically-challenged chucklefuck can’t let go of playing dictator for fifteen fucking seconds.

The tidal wave of anger would threaten to make him collapse, except his motor control is basically gone as it is. But the anger won’t go. Andrew wants to destroy him? Neil would destroy  _ him. _ He would destroy them all. He will rip this building apart brick by brick and bury them all underneath.

The next thought in his head is unlike any other. It crawls towards his consciousness at first, and then snaps forward like a rubber band. The overall feeling Is like pulling a person out of a tar pit.

**Objective: Kill**

_ WAIT— _

**1\. Take cover**

And then the room explodes, and Neil loses consciousness.

* * *

Neil wakes up to the worst headache of his life. He groans and tries to sit up, but a thousand pinpricks leave him lying on the bed, gasping for breath.

“Oh, are you awake?” Nicky’s voice comes from right next to him, and suddenly everything snaps into focus. Neil scrambles off the bed, this time ignoring his body’s protests, but prompting him to investigate. When he looks down, he sees that he’s still wearing the clothes from last night, except they’re now covered in hundreds of small cuts, not to mention stiff and sticky, like somebody doused them in beer. They smell like it too.

“What. The. Fuck.” Neil says, suddenly out of breath. He and Nicky were apparently sharing the bed, which doesn’t seem big enough for the job from what Neil can see in the curtain-filtered light. Nicky stands up then, and when he winces Neil notices that he is similarly injured, though he had traded his clubbing clothes for a pair of jeans and nothing else. This must be the cousins house, then. “What the fuck,” he repeats.

“Fuck, okay, listen,” Nicky stammers. He’s obviously hungover. “We’re at our house. Come to the kitchen and I’ll get you some water. Cracker dust is a hell of a dehydrator. Then you can take a shower, get you some fresh bandages and clothes.”

“Why the fuck do I need bandages!” Neil is shouting at this point, clearly giving them both a headache, but he doesn’t care. “Why did you drug me, why am I covered in what you better  _ hope _ is beer, and why did the club  _ fucking explode? _ ”

But all Nicky does is groan. “Just…ugh. Just come to the kitchen and drink some water.”

Neil doesn’t see any other way out of this situation, and his power is still flashing a notice to go for Nicky’s jugular, so he follows him downstairs.

Aaron is alone at the bar in the kitchen, nursing a Bloody Mary and more than a few bandages on his face and arms. According to him, Andrew and Kevin went out to get breakfast and will be back soon. Nicky hands Neil a glass of water with a small smile, which disappears when Neil promptly drops it on the floor. “Oh c’mon, dude.”

Neil looks Nicky in the eye. “Do you seriously expect me to drink anything you give me after last night?” He takes no small amount of satisfaction from Nicky’s guilty grimace. “Andrew said—“

Neil interrupts him before he can finish the thought. “Only marginally less interesting to me than Andrew’s delusions about me being a threat are why you enable him. I don’t care about your excuses. What I  _ do _ care about is understanding what the fuck happened last night.”

A look passes between them that Neil can’t decipher. In the end, Aaron answers. “Short version: an accident, as far as anyone can tell.”

“And the long version?”

“Candice’s power failed. We’re not sure how, but she momentarily lost her abilities, and the three hundred or so glasses that were floating above everyone fell on our heads. According to the news, six people are in surgery. The PRT is crawling all over the place.”

Neil has a sneaking suspicion that he knows what happened, but between the dehydration and his seething hatred of everyone in their group including himself, he really doesn’t care enough to pry further. 

Nicky opens his mouth again, but Neil interrupts with a curt “Shower?”

Nicky shows him to the bathroom and hands him a new set of clothes, which only serves to remind Neil of how they know his measurements. He quickly showers and changes clothes, stuffs the clubbing clothes in the toilet and flushes, and then makes his way out the window.

The situation is complicated. As an attempt to enter Andrew’s good graces, last night had been a catastrophe. But that doesn’t mean that the situation is unsalvageable. Neil’s mind turns as he wonders what can be done. But Andrew can wait until later. First, he has another lead to follow.

His stomach grumbles. Maybe he should’ve waited until after breakfast to ditch.

A short taxi ride later, he’s back at Eden’s Twilight, or rather the café across the street. He orders a small coffee and large sandwich, and sits down outside to watch the club. Nicky wasn’t kidding earlier; there are enough PRT agents in and around the club to form a small army. One man seems to be calling the shots from beside the largest of the five vans parked in the club’s lot.

Neil takes out his cellphone and calls Matt. He answers after three rings. “Hello?”

“It’s Neil. I’m in Columbia, you were right.” Neil can hear Matt moving around and cursing under his breath. In the background, voices are asking what’s going on, and when Matt explains he can hear Dan cursing too. “Relax, I’m fine. Mostly. A few injuries, but there won’t be a repeat. Possibly ever.”

“What the hell are—injuries? Neil what the fuck happened? Was that an interrogation or a fucking beating?!”

Neil grimaces. There’s no good way to phrase this. “It  _ was  _ an interrogation, but then the club exploded. Listen,” he cuts Matt off before he can start yelling again. “When the cousins come back, Andrew will probably try to go through my stuff. Don’t let him.” He didn’t bother arming the safe beyond the lock it came with, so for now he’s relying on Matt.

“What do you mean  _ don’t let him? _ You’re not coming back?”

“Not just yet. I have something to do here. We’ll talk later.”

He ends the call before Matt can yell or question him any further. He makes one more phone call, and then settles down and waits.

Roland arrives two hours into Neil’s quasi-stakeout. He looks well rested, but still disheveled from last night. He heads right to the man in charge, who gives him a curt but warm greeting. Neil can’t hear what they’re discussing, but he assumes it’s about the club.

Their conversation lasts around 20 minutes, and the PRT packs up and leaves not long after. Neil seizes the opportunity and makes his way across the street. “Hey,” he says, and Roland turns around at the sound of his voice. His eyes aren’t glowing now, which makes sense. They never glowed, just reflected light, like a feline. “Hey,” Roland says. “You’re… Andrew’s friend, from last night, right?”

“Neil, yeah. Though I’m only a friend in a very loose sense of the word.” Roland’s grimace tells Neil that he’s another one of Andrew’s  _ accomplices. _ Good. That makes this easier. “Though that’s not why I’m here. Not entirely.”

Roland raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side. Inviting Neil to continue.

“I need help.” The words he’s about utter threaten to break him. His time in Palmetto so far has been one strenuous bend of his mother’s rules after another, but this is a clean break. “There’s somebody…somebody bad. He’s sorta after me. I’m hoping you and your sister can help me deal with him.”

Roland scoffs. Undoubtedly, he’s heard offers like these a thousand times before. “Look, kid. I get that you’re a Fox and a tragic backstory is sort of a part of the package, but we don’t do that shit.” He turns to go.

“Please?” Neil runs in front of Roland, blocking his way. “I just need a little help. Show of force, maybe. Nothing you don’t want to do.”

Roland rolls his eyes. “Sorry, Candice and I are strictly rogues. We don’t do that stuff. Not after…no. And who is this guy anyway, that you need capes to scare him?”

“Ever heard of Nathan Wesninski?”

Roland releases a shockwave that nearly sends Neil flying. He’s only saved from falling by Roland grabbing the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck do you have to do with Nathan Wesninski?” His chill demeanor is gone. In its place is something hot, impatient,  _ mean. _

Neil disentangles himself from Roland’s grip. “Are you in, then? Because if not, then we’re done here.”

Roland chuckles. “Consider me interested. But Andrew was right about you, wasn’t he? You really are something, if you think you can take on the Butcher.”

“Yes and no.” Neil dusts himself off. “Andrew definitely has some of the pieces, but he’s determined to make them fit on the wrong end of the puzzle. Don’t tell him I said that. But long story short, yeah, I’m someone. Frankly, I’m even further deeper in this mess than you and Candice.”

Roland stares at him like he’s putting the pieces together. Which he probably will before long. “Is Andrew in on it too now?”

“Why would he be?”

“…You don’t know, then.”

“Know  _ what _ ?” Neil presses, but Roland just waves him off. The tangled lines of Andrew’s past are forming a web even more twisted than Neil’s, and he doesn’t appreciate it. But Roland doesn’t seem to think it important. “Don’t worry about it. Believe me, if you are who I think you are, you’ll figure it out eventually.”

That makes Neil stop. “And who exactly do you think I am?”

Roland tells him.

Fucking Thinkers.

* * *

 

Roland gives him a ride to a small independent storage unit compound just outside of town. They’ve exchanged phone numbers, and Neil promised to call as soon as he needed the siblings.

The compound is hardly world class security, but it’s obviously well maintained. A maze of long two-story buildings, each labeled with an animal stenciled on the side. The instructions he got by text on the way take him deep into the compound. Wildbow building, unit 4-5, passcode 10-8-11.

A small car stood inside. Brown, nondescript, and cheap looking. Welder’s services allowed Neil to skip most of the paperwork that Neil couldn’t necessarily fill, but the true hallmark  is complete customization. The car may look like it’s over a decade old, but in reality it was constructed to his own specifications not four hours ago. The wheels are bulletproof, the locks unbreakable, and the engine is more powerful than anything out there not made by a Tinker. There is also, according to a little sticky note under the wheel, a handy little self-destruct button.

He starts up the car and drives out of the unit, only stopping to close the shutter behind him, and then he’s speeding past the main office and onto the highway. All the windows are open, wind flowing through the car and taking away the last traces of that hot metal smell. He has an hour or so before he reaches Palmetto, so he takes the time to think about the past day.

Despite giving him the Margos twins, last night had been nothing short of a disaster. Andrew’s suspicions wouldn’t be gone considering how little Neil had told him, and the incident at the club probably placed him on high alert, wary of any possible threat. With Neil’s luck, the explosion probably made Andrew even more suspicious.

If he wants Andrew’s trust, he’s going to have to give him something to trust. Andrew doesn’t trust Neil because he recognizes that Neil isn’t real, and so Neil’s word is useless. But Nathaniel just might get to him.

By the time he gets to Fox Tower, he’s decided on a story to give Andrew. He just hopes it’s enough.

* * *

For the second time that week, he reaches the third floor of the tower to find the team crowded around his door. “What’s going on?” Everyone turns his way, and he notices that once again Seth is missing.

“Neil!” Matt says, pushing his way towards him. “I tried to call your cell, but you didn’t pick up.”

He threw it out the window as soon as he left the storage unit. One of Welder’s rules for doing business, Neil couldn’t keep physical evidence of their interaction. “Ran out of battery.”

“Ah. Well, glad to see you’re okay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wymack interjects. “Listen, it’s great you’re not dead, but did I or did I not specifically ask you  _ not _ to use tear gas on your teammates?”

“You did.”

“Then why the fuck did you  _ do it anyway? _ ”

Neil blinks. “I didn’t.”

“What?” Now the Foxes look equally confused.

“I. Didn’t. Gas bomb you.” Neil emphasizes every word.

“Well,” Wymack says as calmly as he can with the sirens overhead. “If  _ you _ didn’t gas the dorms, then who did?” He closes his eyes. “How is this a thing I have to ask.”

Neil thinks the coach sorta brought it onto himself, but that's hardly the point. “I don’t know. When did they go off?”

“Right when we came back,” Andrew says. “Speaking of, how was your trip?”

Apparently, this is the rest of the team’s cue to realize that Neil was supposed to come back with the cousins. “Wait, where were you?” Allison asks.

“I had something to do in Columbia, figured I’d ride with them there last night and take care of it today. Which I did.” He shoots a look at Kevin’s and Nicky’s surprise. “What? It’s not like I came for your winning personalities.” Dan snorts at that.

Seth comes back with three bags full of air filters a minute later, and the upperclassmen fill him in before he tries to deck Neil. As the groups split up, Neil chases after the monsters, and comes into their room. He intends to speak, but the words die in his mouth at the sight, because that was  _ not  _ a gas bomb.

The room is pink. From the looks of it, the paint originated above the TV and the blast was powerful enough to hit the wall above the sink on the other end of the dorm. Most of the living room is a pink mess as the paint covers around 70% of Neil’s line of sight. Nicky runs a hand over the couch, and it’s clear that the fabric is ruined. 

Neil shakes it all off. He needs to talk to Andrew. He turns to see Andrew wiping away a drawing of a heart from the wall. “Andrew, we need to talk. Not,” he gestures vaguely at the room, “this. About something else.”

Andrew stares at him for a moment, but then motions for Neil to follow and leaves the room, ignoring Nicky’s protests that he should help clean up. They go out into the hallway, where Andrew turns to face Neil and then raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t work for the Moriyamas.” He raises a hand when a sneer begins to form on Andrew’s face. “I don’t work for them, but I knew who they are before Coach told me. They’ve been trying to kill me for a very long time.” Technically, it was his father, but he figures that the semantics aren’t important.

Andrew doesn’t comment, so Neil continues. “My family had large ties to them, but they fell into debt and couldn’t get out. It wasn’t unlike Jean Moreau’s situation.” Kevin had explained the dynamic to him a few weeks ago. “But rather than use me to pay it off, they decided to burn their bridges and disappear. Long story short, my parents burned too.”   
  


“And now you’re here,” Andrew says. “Alone.”

“Yes.” The admission burns his throat.

“Why?” Andrew says, with more genuine emotion than Neil’s ever heard from him before. “If I’m supposed to believe you, then every second you’re here the target on your back gets bigger and flashier. Why the fuck should I let you stay?”

“I won’t stay forever. Just enough to play. Just enough to make them understand who they’re dealing with, and then I’m gone.”

“Gone where?” Andrew presses, apparently determined to poke every hole he can in Neil’s story. “You rub your existence in their faces and then what?”

And this is the part that makes Neil’s blood run cold. “And then I join the Protectorate.”

Andrew squints, just a little bit, and then his face goes blank, but Neil can still see the gears working in his head. Putting every clue together. The story fits. Neil knows it will. He can also see when the other man reaches the same conclusion. “Sp Eden’s was your doing.”

“Sorta?” Neil shrugs. “Technically it was yours. Thinker abilities don’t mix well, especially under pressure.”

“So you were using you power to interrogate me, and I’m supposed to apologize?”

“Interrogate?” Neil’s memories are still a little fuzzy, and it takes him a second to realize what Andrew is referring to. “Oh no, that was a lucky guess. No, I was trying to kill you.”

It says a lot, Neil thinks, that  _ this _ statement goes over much better with Andrew that anything else he’d said so far. Something about confirmation bias, probably.

“I want in.”

“On killing you? I mean if you’re really gunning for it be my guest but—”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “If you’re taking on the Moriyamas, in. You’ll need to have someone at your back. You promise me that you punch Tetsuji in the face, and I’ll protect you from whatever they try to throw at you.”

Neil would chalk the offer up to Andrew’s penchant for drama, but that’s not it. He can feel it, something is driving the other man, and it has nothing to do with Kevin or Neil. He doubts it even has anything to do with Evermore. “Who are you, Andrew? The team hates the Ravens because they’re shit people, which is fair enough. Kevin is so scared of them it’s frankly a wonder he’s still here. And you know my deal. But this is personal for you, isn’t it? More personal than it is for me, even.” Neil stares into ANdrew’s eyes, looking for any hint of the truth. “Are they the reason you have that barcode?”

Andrew’s eye ticks, almost imperceptibly, and Neil knows that he hit the bullseye. “What did they do to you?”

Andrew just shoves his way past him. He turns around, and calls after him: “I’ll take your deal,” but Andrew doesn’t slow. Neil assumes that the conversation is over, but right before he opens the door to his dorm, Andrew looks him dead in the eye.

“They ruined  _ everything. _ ”

* * *

__

> _ “—conclusive hearing for case file SBN-17776. Currently speaking is PRT investigator Jon Bois. Will the subject please state their name, gender, age, and the names of their parents for the record. _
> 
> **_“Dan Malcolm. 19. Male, right now—_ **
> 
> _ “Right now? _
> 
> **_“I’m genderfluid._ **
> 
> _ “Then say so. Gender, then current pronouns. From the beginning, please. _
> 
> **_“Dan Malcolm. 19. Genderfluid, currently male. Born to father Romero Malcolm, location unknown, and mother Patricia Dorne, deceased._ **
> 
> _ “Please confirm the following statements as they are made. Should any of them be incorrect, say so first, and only clarify when prompted. Is this clear? _
> 
> **_“Yes._ **
> 
> _ “Today is the fourth of january. _
> 
> **_“Correct._ **
> 
> _ “Your sister is Violet Malcolm. _
> 
> **_“Correct._ **
> 
> _ “Fifty-six days ago, on November tenth, you and your sister were kidnapped from your home at gunpoint. You and your sister were left with no permanent physical injuries from the initial altercation, but your mother was killed in the process. _
> 
> **_[Inaudible]_ **
> 
> _ “Please repeat. _
> 
> **_“...Correct._ **
> 
> _ “While captive, you were subject to medical experimentation with unknown purposes. Procedures included forceful consumption of unknown compounds, surgery, and physical examinations. During that time, you experienced a trigger event, and your new powers allowed you to escape. _
> 
> **_“Correct._ **
> 
> _ “You know the identities of your kidnappers, but have refused to disclose them to the PRT, citing fear of retribution. Your sister has given an identical statement. _
> 
> **_“Correct._ **
> 
> _ “You have employed the previous statement as basis for requisition to be entered into the Witness Protection Program. You have spent the last six months under PRT care to create your new ID. _
> 
> **_“Correct._ **
> 
> _ “You understand that by entering this program you may have no interaction with any element of your life as Dan Mays. You understand that should it be found that you engaged in illicit parahuman activities, the protections afforded to you by this program shall be revoked. _
> 
> **_“Yes._ **
> 
> _ “You understand that should you desire to leave US borders for any reason and any given period of time, join any superhero group including the Protectorate, or publicly out your identity, the protections afforded to you by this program shall be revoked. _
> 
> **_“Yes._ **
> 
> _ “You understand that should your identity be discovered, this program will not expend the resources to aid you a second time. _
> 
> **_“Yes._ **
> 
> _ “Very well. With these statements, I hereby approve the closure of investigation SBN-17776. Happy birthday, Roland Margos. _
> 
> **_“Thank you, sir.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SO LATE AND I AM SO SORRY BUT MY COMPUTER BASICALLY LOCKED ME OUT OF ALL OF MY WORK.
> 
> Anyways...here ya'll go. I hoped ya'll liked this chapter. It's been increasingly hard to write this story, and I don't know if it's because I'm losing my passion for it or something else. I'd hate to leave a work unfinished. but I wouldn't rule a hiatus out of the picture. Especially considering my upcoming charity work, followed by military service, I may just outright not have the time. But I'll still be writing whenever I can.
> 
> Anyways, kudos, comment, subscribe. Hearing what you guys think really means everything. Find me on tumblr at aledethanlast.tumblr.com or donate at ko-fi.com/atwrites. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first major-length fic. Please bear with me, I'm still figuring out my style and whatnot. There won't be any real updating schedule since it's final exam season and I have no work ethic to speak of, but hopefull I can get in at least a chapter a week.
> 
> Also, you probably noticed that Neil really wasn't working through the same series of emotions as canon, and I hope it's apparent why. Still, expect deviations. It's gonna be fun, y'all.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at aledethanlast.tumblr.com


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